A crazy dance team? Respond!

Check out Amy's response to the high school dance team who did a "psych ward" routine. She's pissed at NBC because they did a story basically saying "what's the big deal?" she's asking all of us who have been affected by mental health woes to speak up for ourselves and say it's not ok to make fun or portray us as zombie-like. So go read the original article and leave a message telling NBC just what you think Of discrimination.

Merton rules

There's a nice little prayer from Thomas Merton called I don't know where I'm going. He talks about believing in God and that the way might not be clear, but if you're trying, it's ok. At least, that's my interpretation.

I have no idea what I'm doing or where I'm going right now. I'm lost. I also just noticed that ive had too much caffeine. Bit shaky.

Day 2: lockout

Since when did it become ok to use youths instead of youth. Youth is a plural word. You don't need the s at the end. It drives me absolutely batty when I see it, and I see it all over the place now.

I'm sitting in the Starbucks again with dad. The floor people are on day two of showing up late, but getting a lot done. Its not. Big apartment, so you would think they would be done today, but dad thinks its going to be till Saturday. Ok, I cant stand to type on this thing with the auto correct. I'm sure it'll change something to youths. .

I'm in hell

Well, the floor is halfway done. I spent the day in exile, wandering the streets from post office to Starbucks. I had 2 giant lattes, which was probably a bad idea. But, I can't get into our kit hen, so no diet coke or munchies for me. We're out to lunch and out to dinner. They come back tomorrow, but wont be done till Saturday, probably.

I feel like a displaced person. My dad has no where to go either, but he's got the car. I suppose tomorrow I'll walk up to the shopping mall and buy crap I don't need, just for something to do. There's an Ann Taylor there, which is bad news for my credit card.

Ok, I'm writing this on the iPad where typing sucks and I cant see, so its gonna be short.

Abilify I love you

I'm still thinking about how I'm going to get the doc to keep me on Abilify. I mean, it's approved for adjunct therapy with lithium, so it's not like I'm off label. I wouldn't be taking it long-term when you're not supposed to; it's encouraged for people with bipolar 1, which I have apparently morphed into.

Morphed? You say? But Anne, you always had psychosis and severe depression with alternating psychotic mania. No, I didn't. I used to just get really depressed and occasionally I would get up and spend money and sleep with people. Party a lot. The depression has gotten deeper over the years, and the psychosis is new. I don't think I'm too bizarre on the outside, but my thoughts get really bad. So it's moved to bipolar I over the years.

And what's a good treatment for bipolar I symptoms? Abilify! Or it's cousins. But I've been through them. I mean, not Geodon, but Zyprexa (made me fat), Seroquel (puts me to sleep). Abilify really works. Ok, so I end up a little hypomanic, but I'll take the credit card debt over psychotic depression.

So how do I get him to keep me on it? I guess I just have to beg and plead. I'm sure he can get me into the patient assistance program, which should cut down the cost significantly. It really works for me, doc, really!

It's insomnia night!

Well, this hasn't happened in a few weeks. I'm up, it's midnight, and I can't seem to go to sleep. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I've been trying since 9:30 and have been constantly getting texts. No one loves me unless I'm trying to sleep. Or maybe I'm always trying to sleep and so people just text when they feel like it.

Somethings I've been thinking about: Julie mentioned something about our sessions ending in April, so I think that's when her semester is over (she's a student therapist). I suppose I'll have to go without or try to convince the center to give me someone for the summer semester, if they have a person. I wonder how their process works.

I see the doc next week, and I think he's going to take away my Abiify. I'm appalled at the thought. I can't imagine being without the antipsychotic. It's what got me out of a depression last year, and what got me free this time, too. If it's a crutch I don't care- I need it. But how am I supposed to have it? Well, I'm not going to worry about affording it. There are a bunch of folks who've taken up the cause d'Anne and said they would help pay for my meds. I think that sucks, but if it's the reason I can still go to interviews and function, then so be it.

Jesus, I need some sleep. Ugh.

Action without foresight

"Impulsivity, or action without foresight, is a factor in many pathological behaviors including suicide, aggression, and addiction," says the study's author. I just think it's a great explanation. Action without foresight. And it includes actions like addiction that take place over time. Impulsive, but chronic. Interesting how they're grouped in there with aggressive and suicidal acts, which are one time impulsive acts.

Thank God I'm on the low end of impulsivity lately. I can't seem to get anything going, let alone an impulsive act. Maybe running can become a chronic impulsive thing for me. That would be nice.

Sleep calls

It's 7:30 and I'm in my pjs, waiting to go to bed. Is that pathetic? I feel pathetic. I have a lot to do tomorrow, including work and meet up with some people, so one wasted day isn't too much to cry over. I did go to my cousins house and Home Depot, so I got out of the house. I never made it for a run, despite being in my running clothes.

Big sigh. Can I go to bed yet? Apparently the floor guys are coming at 8am, so I have to be up by 7 and dressed and ready to go by 8. I think that means I can go to bed early. This is ridiculously early, though....

Back on bc?

I've always wondered what your menstrual cycle does to bipolar. Since I haven't been on birth control, I've been a lot more depressed.

Anyway, "premenstrual mood exacerbation may be a clinical marker predicting a worse presentation and course of bipolar disorder in reproductive-age women." In other words, yes, your menstrual cycle does have an effect on your moods. Kind of a duh, but in some women with bipolar it really has an effect. I think that might be me. I've been noticing in the past year that before my period I hit a point of depression, and after I get a little manic. I've noticed it's a monthly cycle up up and down, and it's tied in with my period. I know you wanted to know this.

I suppose I should go back on birth control and see if that does something.

Monkey see

So apparently just watching someone smoke can trigger you. "The volunteers were unaware that the study was about smoking. When they viewed smoking scenes, smokers showed greater brain activity in a part of the parietal lobe called the intraparietal sulcus, as well as other areas involved in the perception and coordination of actions. In the smokers' brains specifically, the activity corresponded to the hand they use to smoke."

Your hand knows you smoke with it. It sees others doing what it wants to do, and it prepares itself for smoking. Your brain sets you up, and your body goes along with it. So what are you supposed to do? Not look at the smokers? Can you imagine walking down the street and averting your eyes. "DON'T LOOK!" you're screaming to yourself. How strange.

Though I'm sure the study is right, because I know watching people smoke in movies makes me think about cigarettes. It's inevitable. It's like trying to pretend no one drinks. You just have to get used to the fact that other people do this stuff, and learn to convince yourself out of it. Luckily, it doesn't take much to think of smoking as bad, but it sure is fun. Sigh.

I've lost control

To play on that theme: I'm not in control of my life. I feel absolutely out of control. I spent the past 7 years totally on my own; paying my own bills, buying cars, renting apartments, moving, etc. And now? I have nothing. My mom has my car and dog, my life is in storage, and I'm living with dad. I feel trapped (I am trapped. I can't afford to move). It's a debilitating feeling.

So what do I want to do? Well, what do I have control over? My body! Right! So what do I want to do with my body? Well, besides smoke, I want change! What does change look like? Hair dye. Piercings. New tattoos.

I bought new lipstick yesterday, hoping that would do something. It's nice. And I do like to experiment with lipstick. But I would have to get dressed and leave the house, too. So, no going to happen. Well, that's not true. I've been out of the house a lot and with a lot of different people. Just not lipstick places.

Piercings. Can't think of where I would want one. I think I'm done with piercings.

Hair dye. Or hair changes. This is a valid option, though my hair is finally its natural color and a nice length. I like it the way it is. I do love really short hair, but people tell me I look like a lesbian, and that's no way to attract a boy. Man. I should say man. Boys are stupid. Let's look for a man. Ugh, I don't even want to think about that.

I'm getting my next installation of tattoo at the end of March. It's a long time to wait! Jesus. A month?

Ok, now my head hurts. I just want to go back to bed....

Give me a cigarette

All I want lately is a cigarette. I'm stressed. I'm in chaos. I'm not in control of my life whatsoever. I want a cigarette. "mild depression already is known to reduce the success of quitting. This study suggests that major depression reduces the success rate even farther." See? Even my brain is conspiring against me!

But I won't have one. I haven't had the urge to buy a pack, yet, or even bum one. I just want one, you know? I want that drag, that exhale, that thing in my hand that kills time and reduces stress. Something, anything. Cigarettes were my go-to; my good friends. I could escape with them. They gave me a good reason to get out of the house.

I bummed that one from Diane a while ago, and all I did was cough after one drag. And I took care not to inhale very deep, either. So one little drag... can't even have that. And that's good. It's good to know that.

So I ordered a dress and a few shirts online. Not pants, cause I can't fit in any, but dresses usually fit. I have my workout clothes on, which doesn't cure the cigarette urge, but maybe I'll run today. Maybe.

Chaos rules the day

I gathered my strength and drove to the neighboring state for an interview today, and when I got back home my dad and my aunt had taken over my room. They moved all the furniture to the middle of the room and then painted. Everything is piled high, but luckily I had most of it in boxes in storage already.

"I want them to start in your room first," dad says. Which is good, because then they'll be out of my room first and I can re-arrange it the way I want. But they took down the curtain. So I'm sitting here exposed to the street. We're on the 6th floor, but it's pretty much at eye level with the hill in front of the apartment building. The building across the street was torn down, so I have a nice view of the office building two streets away. I bet the cleaning ladies don't care what I'm up to, but it's creepy to be so exposed. I don't even know where the curtains are, or I'd put them back up.

So I went to therapy. "My life is chaos. I want to cry. I think the meds are working, cause I'm not suicidal, but I sure as hell am depressed." And Julie gave me the speech: there are people worse off than you, you have a lot going for you, the universe is aligning to help you out, blah blah blah, go buy yourself flowers. So I did. Pretty, purple tulips.

I wandered the aisles of CVS for over an hour and bought all sorts of shit I didn't need, like new lipstick, and shit I did, like travel size contact cleaner. Then I went to the grocery store and bought 100-calorie packs of Oreos and some ice cream. I grabbed the flowers and, feeling a little better, walked home.

I get home and dad says, "Aren't you allergic to flowers? I am. Your mom is, too." No, actually, I'm cool. I can't stand the high perfumey ones, but tulips are fine. Then he tries to talk to me about moving stuff again, and how I need to put more stuff in boxes. So I ran away and took a nice hot shower. I even shaved my legs and then plucked my eyebrows. Self care. A little self-love.

And I still feel insane. I need to move out and be in control of my own life again!

A little folded slice of life

I'm getting the remnants off the floor and surfaces before the floor people make it to my room, and I was taking out the trash when I found a piece of paper on the floor, all folded in fours. I put down the trash and unfolded it. "To whomever is listening, this is a note. Nothing more, nothing less." I found a suicide note from God knows when. How strange to find it just sitting there on my bed. It must have fallen out of something else, but what? Where did it come from? It's not dated, either, but it's signed, and the handwriting is strangely mine. It's calm handwriting, but slightly manic. With flourishes. It's too pretty.

I suppose I've been living in this room, off and on, for 15 years now. It could be from college, or it could have fallen out of something from high school. I've moved ever era of my life out of this room in the past week. Anything could have been unearthed.

How sad, too. How sad that I always feel this way. That nothing can make it stop; this pattern of self-love and self-hatred will always continue. Amazing the capabilities of the human brain. My beautiful, defective, human brain.

Happy Valentine's Day!

My card from Michael. Love it.

Spring has sprung

It's an absolutely beautiful day outside. We even have the sliding glass door open here to let the breeze in. It sure doesn't feel like February.

I tried all my pants on this morning, and they zip, but they create the dreaded muffin top. I have 3 pair that fit alright, so that's what I'm going to be rotating between. That, and mumus.

Add all that up and you would think I'd be out there running today. I have to make it at least 12 miles this week sometime, just to get ready for the marathon I'm not going to finish. But I'm here, on the bed, typing, as usual. I'm just feeling overwhelmed by everything; so much so that all I want to do is nap. And then I wonder why I can't sleep at night. I didn't even get up till 2 today. It's only 4. How can I possibly want a nap?

Trust

"You never reach out. You can lean on other people, you know."

I keep hearing this lately. But really, what are they going to do? You know what my problem is? And my aunt told me this; I don't want to get close to anyone because I think they're going to leave. I just don't trust anyone.

You know who I do trust? My tattoo artist. Isn't that odd? I mean, I pay the man to do a job, and he does and excellent job, so I trust him. He's not going to fire me for being a bad canvas. And I tip really well. I trust him so much that I've let him cover 1/3 of my body in art, and I'm letting him have free reign with this next one. I don't even know what it looks like and yet I scheduled a time to go in and get it started. I just gave him the perimeters and let him get creative.

Is that sad? I trust my tattoo artist the most?

Eat to feel better

So I just had another Cadbury Egg. I think it may have been my second one. And then I got the sugar shakes, so what did I do? I had cereal. Because eating makes everything better. Jesus, no wonder I'm getting fat! I eat to make things feel better! And man, do I want to eat right now. Everything is crap. I'm trapped in this house. I can't move out, and it's driving me mad.

The floors get started tomorrow, so the chaos is only beginning. I'm thinking of going to the local coffee shop with my iPad and just hanging out all day. I don't care if I have to spend money, I don't know if I can sit here with a bunch of strangers ripping up carpet in the next room.

I need a job. The little grocery store job is good - I made $500 towards my next tattoo - but it's just not the same. And I don't have a set schedule. It's just work every now and again when he feels like taking off and playing golf. I like to have a schedule; to know what I'm up against. I like to plan.

And maybe that's what bugs me most about my whole situation. I can't even plan. I don't know any of the perimeters, so I can't guess at the others. Damnit.

Postsecrets this week

I totally do this! I have one from my dad and one from my grandma, just in case.