Thursday, September 1

Feeling... Insecure



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“... I've vowed in moments like these I would remain silent.  To make any other
choice would also be to choose to once again pressure myself to be someone I
can’t.”  For more about me outside of my struggle with mental illness, visit me
here on Google Plus


Saturday, July 16

Tuesday the 5th: So Wilbur Robinson



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Had a scary few days last week...
my mood dropped within about 30 minutes one day at work.  Then the day after, I was almost 2 hours late for work.  I got up somewhat on time.  But laid on the couch for an hour or so.  I’m fine now... thank God.  I guess I just hadn’t gotten enough down time.  Or maybe I’m doing a piss-poor job of staying hydrated this summer.  I don’t know.


And of course!  
I’m still adjusting to my new hours: a 12 and three 8’s.  But I’ve also made 2 trips to Philly a month apart.  This last trip?  I drove on about 3 hours of sleep after working two 8’s (the last turned into a 12... sigh) just to turn around and drive right back home the next day.  One day off and it was back to work.  Back to three 12’s because a colleague had the week off.


No.  Not that one.  
That one is on the underbosses radar.  She realizes that she takes a lot of time off and I’ve been covering for her.   I’m the only one that can because of my second position (totally confusing).  It finally hit the underboss after I worked about 100 in a pay period.  She decided it was best to have a meeting with the boss and the emergency room care coordinators.  But first my colleague would get upset when I wouldn’t cover for her again 3 weeks later!


That’s that bullshit *in my Will Smith Bad Boys 2 voice*


Speaking of the couch.  
I’m obviously still sleeping on it.  Sigh...  I just can’t seem to move back into my room.  I even have a TV/DVD combo and a Firestick now!  If I could keep up with the kitchen and bathroom i.e. “the filthiest rooms in my apartment”, I would spend more time in my bed instead of piles of clothes .  I’m thinking about calling in a housekeeper sooner to do just that.  Problem solved!  I hope.


It’s month 7 on the tretinoin...
and my skin looks great!  My body?  Sigh...  I haven’t hit 200 lbs!  Yaaaayyyy meeee!  Yet.  Sigh...  I am learning to accept my body though.  Grueling.  Still need a new wardrobe.   I’ve just about run out of clothes that fit well or fit at all.   If I could only find the energy to smartly shop for girly-tomboy threads to drape this spoon-shaped body complete with a cauldron-type pot belly, I may come into greater acceptance.   

Monday, June 20

Blog Post: “High-Functioning” Bipolar Disorder


“You seem to be doing alright.”  Couldn’t believe I was hearing this from my psychiatrist of all people.  This was not too long after I shared my diagnosis with my boss.  It was when I found myself in the pit again.  I was asking her to fill out paperwork for partial medical leave; permission to temporarily cut my hours to part-time.  I was scared.  I knew depression was affecting my productivity.  I put myself out there for help but I was also begging to be scrutinized.


She didn’t sign them.  She wanted to “treat me first”.   I get it.  But it would take two weeks for the new medication or dose to take effect.  Probably also the time it would take for me to be warned about my productivity and to later be fired when it didn’t improve.  “Can I have limited hours during that time?”  I should’ve asked.  But instead I did what I had to do.   I surrendered to defeat.  I put on the mask some days and called out other days.  Thankfully my boss not only told me she understood but she showed that she at least had partial understanding by not penalizing me for calling out.   More than my psychiatrist showed.


Thankfully that’s over.  I came out of my latest mood swing determined not to overwhelm myself with trying to put my life back together to it’s pre-mood swing condition.  I had the understanding that certain things just didn’t matter.  I claimed to have had this understanding many times before though.  Just never treated myself like I did.  This time I’m taking it one day at a time, being easy on myself, nonjudgemental, but determined to keep moving forward.  It wasn’t until months after my mood swing, though, that I found the missing piece.  The piece that may possibly keep me from spiralling down into the pit of depression every few months: it’s been 6 ½ months.  One of my longest periods of normalcy!


That piece?  My hierarchy of needs.  Lovingly inspired by Maslow, I realized I needed to throw out everything I thought I knew about building a self-care plan to just focus on the foundation. For now.  I started by being completely honest in the most selfish way I ever have.  I admitted that I just didn’t give a fuck about many things anymore.   And in the end I recommited to my mantra that my mental health mattered more than anything.  Anything!  Including earthly relationships.  And rest, a basic physiological need,  would be the easiest way to get there.  


While my psychiatrist has not diagnosed me with bipolar disorder (BPD) she and my therapist both agree that I have features of BPD.  The following blog post, a personal story, validates how I feel being my best but also tethered by invisible chains to a debilitating disease and stigma. However it has also helped me to feel less guilty about what I need to do and more proud of myself for having the courage to do it.  


The trouble is, using all my control, sanity and energy during the week to try and produce enough work to pay my rent then leaves me with a really large deficit when I’m not working. I’m crazy. Remember? Not normal? I’m just faking the normal. And faking normal requires more effort than you can possibly imagine.”


con’t reading ““High-Functioning” Bipolar Disorder” by Natasha Tracy published at HealthyPlace.com.  Retrieved on April 22nd, 2016 at http://www.healthyplace.com/blogs/breakingbipolar/2011/01/high-functioning-bipolar-disorder

Wednesday, June 1

Feeling... Fatigued




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“... I've vowed in moments like these I would remain silent. To make any other choice would also be to choose to once again pressure myself to be someone I can’t.” For more about me outside of my struggle with mental illness, visit me here on Google Plus...






Friday, April 8

Then & Now...


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In my early 20’s, before going off to college, I would take a a few Saturdays per month to pamper myself.  I would style my hair having washed it the night before and letting it air dry overnight.  I would take a nice long bubble bath, exfoliate, shave, give myself a mani-pedi.  I would take hours: writing in my journal by candlelight, music playing… usually classic r&b or neo-soul  I remember it being a huge stress-reliever, making me feel better about myself and helping me to forget about feeling as if almost everyone in my tiny world was constantly against me.  

These days I can barely shower.  I average about twice per week.  Birdbaths have become the norm.  Shaving? Ha!  I’ve only recently started paying for manicures because of to feel more feminine.  Was only getting the every 8 to 12 week trim but now I’m seeing my hairstylist about once per month ‘cause sometimes that's the only time my hair gets washed. My $60 massage membership barely gets used.  I believe I’m up to five sessions to my credit so far.  That’s five months.  And I just cancelled a 1 ½ hour appointment last week ‘cause I just didn’t have the energy to get dressed.

Saturday, April 2

Feeling… Suspended



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“... I've vowed in moments like these I would remain silent. To make any other choice would also be to choose to once again pressure myself to be someone I can’t.” For more about me outside of my struggle with mental illness, visit me here on Google Plus…”


Sunday, March 13

Sunday the 28th: IDGAF



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I think I may have taken a huge leap...
toward untangling this mess called “my life”.  A strange feeling has come over me lately.  Hard to explain.  Can’t put my finger on it.  Could it be that I can’t give two shits about many things anymore?  I kinda like it.  Still getting used to it though.   

Yeah… about that...
I refuse to come in as early as 8 AM again.  Too many times I’ve had to stay an hour or two after my shift due to the dickery of the emergency department.   I will, at minimum, make every effort to come in on time.  Well, not today: worked four shifts this week.  My ass is wiped.  Whipped?  Wiped.

So what I do care about?… 
  • My mom
  • My job
  • My sanity
not in that order.  Sadly.  I haven’t been a good daughter lately.  I missed my mom’s birthday this year.  Haven’t sent her anything yet.  Not even an e-card.  I don’t even know if they still have those but that’s not the point.  I take days to answer her texts if she’s just wants to say “hi” or ask how I'm doing.  If she calls I’ll let it go to voicemail and put off checking it until I forget.  Meanwhile days have passed.  I do that with everyone these days though.  But this is mom. And her knee is getting worse.  *sigh*

I wish I didn’t care about…
my looks.  I simply can’t stop comparing myself to other people.  I see an attractive woman and think to myself “any guy I would be interested in would surely pick her over me”.   The my-personality-and-kindness-makes-me-beautiful-inside-and-out mentality squashes that thought sometimes.  But mostly I'm just reminded that my mood disorder makes my personality shit and my kindness “what kindness?”.   And this is why I choose to spend so much time in my head and away from reality: a desperate need to forget.

But I am getting a clearer picture…
of my hierarchy of needs.  Finally!  It’s only been a few years.  On average and in general my daily activities consist of the follow:
  • Job-work
  • Home-work, which is every other work not characteristic of job-work
  • Rest
  • Relaxation

Soooo...
  • Job-work takes up the majority of my time and constantly kicks my ass
  • Rest takes up an equal amount of time because job-work kicks my ass and it’s my second line of defense against mood swings
  • Relaxation, which is anything that feeds my soul, comes in next but not at the expense of rest
  • Home-work will have to take a back seat to all that shit until… well, I don’t know  

Sadly blogging falls under relaxation…
So I’ll be writing less this year.  This year for me will be a year of more doing some of the things I’ve been writing about.   Doing the best I can to at least, since the majority of what I do is work and rest.  Whatever it takes.  

Being easy on myself… nonjudgemental… one day at a time.