New and newer

So … new insurance means finding a new person to handle meds. Met with that person yesterday. Oh, and yesterday kind of s#cked. Made several professional mistakes that I could be called to task on and/or written up for. Trying to stay on top of too many things at once and that means making mistakes. On to the new prescriber, a psychiatric nurse practitioner. After spending over an hour with her, she’s decided to double the amount of Zoloft (generic version) from 50 to 100 mg. I knew the 50 mg was low, but it was mainly to stop the crying. And she’s also increasing my Lamictal from 200 to 300 mg. She says that’s the most that should be taken before its effectiveness decreased. She wanted me to take the rest of the week off of work but I refused to. Conferences and assessments to be done. Next week is a vacation week, so that should help. As always happens, she wanted me to assure her that if I felt like hurting myself, I would call 911. I said I wouldn’t do that. Would I call her? I said, “honestly, no.” Heer response was the expected, “if you can’t do that, then I need to hospitalize you.” My response, “I have no desire to kill myself, but I can’t say I won’t hurt myself.” I’d told her that my self harming had gone from the more obvious cutting and burning to the non-visible purging. Even though it is not a good thing. This seemed more satisfactory to her and she let me go at that. I’ve never wanted to kill myself. There are too many things in life I want to see .. like grandchildren someday, my family, the world, what happens in life! Sometimes I just don’t want to hurt so much. It’s not even all the time, just when things happen. I just want to feel ok with myself and not so volatile or sensitive to everything. The roller coaster has NEVER been a ride I enjoyed ( real or metaphorically speaking.) And it’s not too thrilling for others on the ride with me either, ie my husband and family.

We’ll see how it goes. Today, I’m feeling better – but that’s also how it seems to go. I really would like to be ok with myself some day. From what I hear, I’m a pretty decent person.

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High Anxiety!

My anxiety is shooting up – at unexpected times and for no apparent reason. OK, I guess there is/are reasons. Work is stressful –  returning to it and being in a new place to teach, and feeling like I’m not up to snuff and worried about it all. Now I’m trying to find a new psych doctor and worry about the money aspect of that. My husband would say not to worry, but do what I feel I need to. But I don’t feel worthy of spending that kind of money on myself. I need to find a doctor, though. My meds run out in about a month and I need a psych to prescribe them. Me with no meds is a BAD thing! I’ve only fairly recently seemed to find a “cocktail” of meds that seems to be a good balance for me. I just sent an email to a prospective doctor. I gave him all the basic facts up front. I hope I hear from him soon. My insurance website provided his name, but then I didn’t see my carrier on HIS list, so I’m worried about that. I’m turning into my mother with worrying!

Afraid

I’m very afraid of what this new approach to my therapy will bring. But I asked for it. I feel like I’m in Limbo. Something am waits, but what. I want to force it out of hiding, yet fear it will be my undoing to do so. The fear makes me want to do things to myself to avoid facing it … Binge, purge, cut, burn, drink, pills … My skin is crawling. I don’t really want to hurt myself, just trying to avoid the unknown fear. Binging and purging isn’t working. I’ve no strong desire to cut and burn (feelings aren’t at that intensity right now) and having a drink just makes me sadly aware of the fear and avoidance.
I want to talk but am afraid of what I might say or ask. The truth might be too hard, too uncomfortable – demanding what of me?

“I don’t think you really have BPD,” She said. Then what? Am I just fucked up? I know my life is a dream compared to others. But I cannot deny the fear and trepidation that fill me. I put on a laughing facade around my friends. They say they are always there to help, but how can they? This all seems so childish of me. Get over it! Shut up the words that resound in your head. Silence can be so deafening.

Drinking makes me depressed, just like they say it will. Not a good thing to do. Ok, off to bed. Night all.

Closing In

No, I’m not burning, cutting or raging … but anxiety is closing me in and I am again binging and purging. But the purging isn’t working out much, so there’s lots of guilt and shame. Closing in on myself.

In counseling, we’ve changed directions a bit, on my request, from some DBT to cognitive behavior therapy. I want to look at my perceptions of myself and my world. I’m again feeling like I’m being told that I’m not what I thought. (Don’t really feel like going into that right now though.) Instead of looking at mindfulness and distress tolerance, I’ve started talking about what’s missing. Words that I don’t even want to utter out loud. I haven’t burned or cut in a long time, but I’m back to doing what I’ve spent the most number of years doing … binging and purging. So secretive, so personal, so difficult to get to succeed any more. My body rebels and I fail. Fail.

I find my body getting very still, to watch around me and see if I’m being noticed, my thoughts heard. I’m getting ready to go on a week and a half driving trip. There are questions I’d like to ask as we have this time alone together. But I cannot, unless I want us both to regret it. So I’m locked in silence and the silence is crushing as it intensifies. Sabotage? Fear, loneliness in the midst of togetherness

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Mindfulness

I haven’t written for awhile now. I’m stuck. Trying counselling, but don’t know if it’s helping. I cry a lot – at the mention of my father, future losses, failures I think I’ve had with my son and husband. I cry because I can’t go back in time to change what I said or did. I cry because I’m afraid of what I’ve lost or might lose.  It’s oppressive at times.

The counselor tells me to keep practicing mindfulness, and that some of the things I share with her indicate that I am being mindful at times. She reminds me that I can’t change the past or predict the future. Bemoaning and anxiety. I keep trying. It is SO hard though. Emotions run amuck. Sensations of the walls of the past and future close in around me, leaving little room for mindfulness. The pressure of the past and future engulf me, causing me to panic and forget where I’m at. I suppose that as I practice being mindful, I should get stronger and be able to push the walls back into place. At least that’s what I think my counselor would say if I shared my analogy with her. Is the goal then to push them back until the room they shape (my life) is as large as possible?

Cement walls closing in. I feel like I will drown.

Cement walls closing in. I feel like I will drown.

 

 

 

Paralysis…

My husband and I have had some very difficult talks over the last few days. Our future together is very shaky. He needs some peace and stability in his life. For over 30 years, I’ve denied him that. And it’s improbable that I can ever give it to him. It is what it is, even as I try new meds and therapy (DBT, but one-on-one). A life-long fear may soon be realized. Alone. When I’m confronted with a situation that is so difficult and requires action on my part, I freeze – paralysis, and disassociate. Where tears or anger would be expected, I go cold and feel nothing. Or, I may act overly energetic, giddy. Inappropriate emotions for the situation. A facade to hide the fear.

The Bipolar Codex

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Confused –

The episode has ended. I’ve tried to talk about it. I don’t know what to say – I hate myself like this. I don’t know how to change. Nothing seems to help. Maybe I should be turned over to the state and hospitalized, but I doubt they’d do that because the episodes aren’t continuous. Only every 2-3 weeks. So the rest of the time should be fine, right? Live life knowing that “IT” is coming, you just don’t know when. I can’t live with me. How can I expect anyone else to either? And what have I got to look forward to? Research says symptoms tend to lessen during your 40’s. Mine never did and now I’m in my 50’s. Is this pattern to repeat for the next 20, 30 or ever 40 years? What kind of life is that for me or anyone close to me? I’ve ceased to be of benefit to anyone. Enough said.