Someone's Waiting For You

This song came into my head out of nowhere, and I can't shake it. It was one of my favorite Disney songs as a kid, and it's still one of my favorites today. It makes me feel a little more hopeful.



Be brave, little one
Make a wish for each sad little tear
Hold your head up though no one is near
Someone’s waiting for you

Don’t cry, little one
There’ll be a smile where a frown used to be
You’ll be part of the love that you see
Someone’s waiting for you

Always keep a little prayer in your pocket
And you’re sure to see the light
Soon there’ll be joy and happiness
And your little world will be bright

Have faith, little one
Till your hopes and your wishes come true
You must try to be brave, little one
Someone’s waiting to love you

Letter to God

Dear God,

You remember me, don't you? I'm the girl who used to spend an hour sitting in the clover patch looking for that one four-leaf-clover. The girl who used to chase the boys around the playground, then tackle and kiss them. Well, I'm having some problems, Lord.

You see, my body isn't working right anymore. I've been trying to be normal and happy, but my brain just won't let me, and the truth is... I'm too tired to keep it up. I've tried so hard for so long to keep inching ahead, to be at the same level as my friends and family, but I keep getting pushed back to the starting line. And now, with this tidal wave of psychiatric problems, I don't even know even know where the starting line is anymore.

I've almost always tried to do the right thing. I've tried to be kind to others, and I always tried to make amends when I had hurt people's feelings. I've tried to be a good wife and mother. But all the while I'm being bombarded and plagued with physical ailments that prevent me from living a happy, healthy, normal life.

I kept hoping every time I tried a new medication, or started an exercise routine, or went on a family trip, or started spending more time outdoors that I'd finally turned a new leaf, that things were starting to get better.

But I'm all out of hope. I'm clinging for dear life to my last shreds of faith and feel utterly lost.

I'm lost, Lord. Please help me, or I'll never find my way home.

Cheryl

What to Do With My Anger

I'm awake with anger, but at least I'm awake. It's a frightening and empowering feeling to feel awake from something you've always tried to suppress. But the sudden rage from all that's happening to me has filled me with fire. I'm so angry. So angry and ready for change. So furious about the the lingering, festering emotions and plaguing physical weaknesses. So frustrated that I of all people ended up having bipolar disorder. These waves of mania and utter despair ruined so much of my life. And this unquenchable thirst for retribution for the days I lost are inflaming every strain of thought penetrating my mind.

I'M SO ANGRY.

Transitions

Maybe it's just the transition between switching medicines. Perhaps it's that I've gotten so little sleep the past several days. Or maybe it's that depakote doesn't actually treat the depressive side of bipolar disorder. It's probably a mix between all three.

But I feel alone in this world. My husband helps me stay afloat, and God seems to rescue me when I'm at my breaking point, but it's the same circle of emotions over and over again. And I'm so tired. So tired of fighting for the energy and happiness that others seem to find so easily. So tired of blending into the pavement.

Medical problems, mental disorders, physical trials, financial stress. I'm dying with the music still inside me. Will I never have a chance to sing my song?

Insomnia

Switching Medicines is delicate business; I get that. But this is the fourth night in a row I haven't been able to sleep. I can't even take naps. This is driving me crazy.

UPDATE: I've included an illustration to help you understand the inner workings of my mind on nights like these... (Hooray)

 The Joys of Insomnia (... not really)

 And somehow I wake up alive the next morning... just to do it all again that very night. 

I must be magical. o.O

This Time, Two Years Ago

I wasn't always the crazy, ranting manic-depressed psycho girl you read about, and I won't always be. In about eighteen months I will probably be back to my quirky, normal self (hopefully sooner).

It just makes me think back and reflect on the last time I had zero emotional or physical problems. I felt fantastic, and life was full of promise. Ah, the days when I was 24...

Oh... and I was blonde. For roughly 6 months. It was fun... but ultimately too high maintenance for me.

My kids were 6 months old and 2 years old, and I was the cute, fun mom who looked pretty darn good for having 2 kids.

And we went camping, and hiking, and spent our time outdoors. It was the best.

Then one day I just got really tired. My whole body was exhausted. Was it because I'd started an intense workout program? ...Probably. Either way, I spent the next several months trying in vain to battle chronic fatigue, and I wasn't the fun mom and wife anymore, because my whole body was constantly pinned down by a heavy, weighted exhaustion.

By the time I began to recover from that I started having depressive episodes again. And I couldn't help but think... Really? Again? ...I'm so sick of being caged by irrational and unnatural emotions. I'm so tired of being tired.

But I suppose all I can do is hold on and wait it out. I don't want to let this trial conquer me. I want to be free.

Nine Years... Feels Like Yesterday

So here I am, listening to my old music from when I was seventeen, and I realize... It's been nine years. Where did the time go? Of course, over six of those years I've been married to my sweet husband. And over four of those years I've been a mom. But I have the same feelings, the same dreams. When did they fall by the wayside?

I know some of my aspirations will never happen. I remember the point when it was either pursue fame or have a family, and I'm happy I chose the latter. But I still want to feel like I matter in life. I want to make my mark in the world.

And I can't lie, it's difficult not to get down about it. I know my family is more important than all those other things, but every time I feel like I have the time or energy to begin pursuing one of my goals in life something bad happens. I feel like my body's crumbling. I'm getting older, less resilient. And yet, my mind is still on fire, yearning for greatness.

Don't worry... I'll get over it. I always do... *sigh*

The End of Lithium

I'm not taking lithium anymore. Apparently the internally asphyxiating dizziness, nausea, and seizure-like symptoms were bad... Who knew? My hands are still quite twitchy, and the nauseousness is still pretty bad. In fact, I still have all the symptoms, but I'm hoping they'll fade within a few days.

Oh well... Too Bad about the Lithium. It worked great for a while.
You know, until it started poisoning me....

And so begins the reign of Depakote.
May it be longer, healthier, and happier.

Like I'm Dying

A few days ago I started feeling really nauseous. I knew it was a side effect of my medicine, but it got so bad that I decided to lower my dose of lithium to 2 pills a day instead of 3. My symptoms however have not improved. In fact, they've gotten worse. I can't sleep, because I'm so shaky, especially my hands. I'm nauseous beyond belief, unnaturally tired and weak, and so dizzy. I can't focus, and it's even difficult to speak. Finally this afternoon I realized something was really wrong, and I opted not to take my evening dose of lithium.

I think it's lithium toxicity, so I'm calling the doctor in the morning. I just can't stop shaking and feeling so nauseous. Ugh... I need to stop shaking..................

Bipartisan Bipolarism

Since being diagnosed with Bipolar disorder two weeks ago I've been trying to connect it to my past behaviors/daily activities. Everyone's talking politics lately, so of course it's been on the tip of my brain, and this morning as I ate some Cracklin Oat Bran (the best cereal of all time) I had a startling epiphany. I tend to agree more with Democratic ideals when I'm having a manic episode, Republican ideals during a depressed episode, and some sort of mushed independent during those "normal" days. Weird... and possibly far-fetched, but still intriguing to think about. Not just my thoughts and feelings may be affected during an episode of that magnitude, but also my impressionable beliefs. Intriguing...

It's like multiple personality disorder for political parties. And I've decided to call it "Bipartisan Bipolarism"...

Perfect Love

Perfect love, purest love

Breaking through my anguish
Precious love, endless love
His love never fails me

He leads my heart when my eyes can't see

When my soul is lost he carries me

He comforts me in all my pain

And so I trust in his perfect love

Perfect love, surest love

Grace beyond my failings

Deepest love, truest love

Strong enough to save me

He leads my heart when my eyes can't see

When my soul is lost he carries me

He comforts me in all my pain

And so I trust in his perfect love

It calms my fears and peace breathes through me

He moves me

And he knows my heart even when I don't

He reaches me when I need him most

He rescues me from all my shame

And lifts he up in his perfect love

Every time I'm sinking without strength... when I feel myself drowning with no rescue in sight, I feel God's love enfold me. I don't know what I would do without Him. It always feels so good when I can breathe again.

Lithium

Lithium reminds me of a pressing hand. Imagine said hand pressing down on a curved line, and imagine that curved line represents my emotions. Sometimes the hand presses gently, and I find that I can breathe easily and freely between that hand's fingers. It's such a fantastic feeling. So... alive and at peace. Giddiness becomes a peaceable, chipper feeling. Sadness simply becomes wistfulness.

But sometimes the hand has to press harder, and my emotions, like a malleable putty, attempt to ooze between the hand's defenses, trying to break loose. But the hand is still pushing, pushing, and pressing down on me.

Suddenly it feels like I'm covered in plastic wrap. The carefree feeling, the ability to breathe freely dwindles. It's like an almost tangible film over me, keeping me from plunging into a depressed spiral or manic frenzy, but also keeping me from feeling fully alive. I'm just here, trapped beneath the surface, until my emotions can even out a bit, and I can finally breathe again.

It's just........ tough...

It's my party, and I'll cry if I want to...

Just kidding. All things considered, I'm just grateful to be alive today.

My husband woke up with a debilitating headache, which prevented him from baking the muffins he'd talked about last night. The girls were whining and being annoying for a good 6 hours. I'm so nauseous from my lithium I can hardly eat. But I feel loved, and I feel calm and happy, which is all I really wanted for this day. Granted, I had help with my stress, in the form of clonazepam. I barely ever take that stuff, but I needed it today. So now I'm tired and happy and sitting on the couch while the girls jump around and chase each other in circles.

I'm starting to feel a little more like... me though. It's a good feeling. I never wanted to be remembered as that depressed girl, or even as that crazy, manic girl my highschool friends had a blast with back in the day. I only ever wanted to be me, and I'm hoping that these normal feelings will continue and flourish with time.

So Happy Birthday to me. It's mostly been like any other day, except I'm able to see my life from a clear, calm perspective for once.
It's the best gift I could have asked for.

What I deserve

Noises, I play within my head
Touch my own skin and hope that I'm still breathing...
And so I tell myself that I'll be strong
And dreaming when they're gone

I think I've listened to Lights by Ellie Goulding nearly 500 times in the last two weeks... and I'm not exaggerating. When I get in the zone I really get in the zone.

So I'm taking Lithium now. I don't want to be treated differently, but I'm afraid that people who know what's wrong with me won't know what to do when they see me. I wonder if being bipolar means I still have major depressive disorder. It feels like they're separate things... Or maybe depressive episodes just go hand in hand with bipolar disorders.

I know I probably shouldn't have, but I felt guilty for having these disorders this morning. I found out that one of my family members went to the hospital in the middle of the night and another one no longer has a job. Those feel more real and tangible than just psychological issues, and I couldn't help but think to myself, "How dare you feel this way? People have real problems, and you just sit here, switching back and forth between a psycho and a zombie. You don't deserve sympathy..."

Disclaimer- Picture belongs to Allie Brosh @ Hyperbole and a Half

It reminds me of a blog I follow called Hyperbole and a Half. Allie's last post was about depression, and she really gets it. I also worry about her, since she hasn't had a new post in a year.






At any rate I'm just sitting her holding on and hoping that this chaos inside of me will pass. I just want to be whole and happy. I just want to be me again.

A different Diagnosis - Bipolar Disorder.

My new doctor diagnosed me with bipolar disorder. Of course I've pretty much figured that since that one time in highschool when my friend Sean told me I was "the most mercurial person [he'd] ever met". I'm just tired now. Tired and hopeful.

Taking Action

When I'm in the midst of an episode or even just a moment of intense depression I can't find the will to seek help. Since yesterday afternoon I've had this unsettled feeling beneath my skin that I admit made me look and feel crazy. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't stop rubbing my arm and occasionally hitting my head. That's not who I am. I don't want to be like that, but every time I move it's like I get this sensory overload. Like I can't handle anything unless I react physically.

Anyway, that's ridiculous, so I'm looking for a doctor and am praying I find the right one for me...

Not yet, not yet, not yet...

What if it happens early? I guess I had a bunch of minor depressive episodes early when I was 16, but still. I am mother and a wife for crying out loud. It doesn't matter how much I prepare. Ugghhh. Why is this happening? What is happening to me?

Why Can't I Just Be Normal?

I can't remember. After my moment of overwhelming peace a few days ago I slipped back into emptiness. I should have filled the void with peaceful, good things, but I didn't. I felt lively. Then I felt aggressive. Then I felt tired. Then I felt dull. But then within the dullness... I had moments where I was outgoing, spontaneous, cute, and fun. Then I'd slip back into my stupor where nothing could breakthrough my lifeless, weighted feelings.

After a couple days of zombie stupor with occasional energetic bursts of extroversion I realized today that I was genuinely depressed. Nothing was satisfying me, nothing gave me pleasure. It felt like it was all pretend. Then I thought of my poor, dear husband. He didn't deserve my lifeless attitude, but I couldn't help it. I also began to realize that my life was overwhelmingly dominated by depression. In fact, everything I feel in life tends to fall into the following categories:

Depression - 40%... maybe
Mania- 30%... sounds about right...
Peace- 9%... possibly
Normalcy- 18%... Yeah, I'm totally making these numbers up
Complete Psychological Meltdown- 3%... Probably more during an episode

I don't know what it was. Maybe my brain just broke... but when I started thinking about how truly messed up I was I felt the insatiable urge to hurt myself. I was so sick of feeling this same loop of hyper-happy, then deadened, then depressed, then masochistic tendencies cycling endlessly. I didn't want it. I fought the urge.

Then I started to shake. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't stop shaking. I was just pawing at a chair in front of me like an idiot, trying to hurt myself yet trying not to hurt myself. Then came the hideous sound effects. I was truly crazy, rocking back and forth, screeching like a dying animal. I was just begging to the air... "Help me, Please help me." I couldn't stop scratching my arm with my fingernails. The pain inside me just wouldn't go away.

My husband came upstairs, and even though my previously lifeless, apathetic behavior was wearing on him, he held me. He calmed me. He loved me. Then he left to do something. I was just in awe at how ridiculous it all was. Why was I so bubbly and happy one minute and completely dead the next? I found myself nearly shouting again. "Why can't I be normal? Why can't I just be normal?" The shaking, the moaned shrieking began to resurface, but I was clinging to my last shreds of sanity for help. I ran to my bedroom, and shaking and clawing at my bed, begging and crying in prayer to be comforted. My prayers were answered. Those crazed feelings are tucked under the surface, beneath my skin. I didn't exactly make it to the "peace" stage, but I was grateful nonetheless.

Now I'm exhausted. I understand now that fatigue is my body's way of recuperating from all these messed up things in my life. I also understand that I need a doctor, badly. I just need help.