This is so not me right now

I like this, from over at Beyond Blue: Hypomania usually takes a bad habit and multiplies it by, say 100.

Damn, girl, ain't that the truth. What bad habit do you have? Let's make it 100% worse! Like to snort blow? Let's do it sunrise to sundown! Like to sleep with people? How about 5 this week? One for every day, you know!

At least, that's what my mania looks like. It takes me to awesome places of danger and expense of health and sanity. My hypomania looks more like shopping and overextending myself, which is probably good for me (well, not my credit cards). I also like to sign up for marathons and book plane tickets. A strange mania, indeed.

So where am I right now? I'm pretty depressed. I can feel it lurking under the surface. I just want to sleep, but I'm not tired. I just want to eat, but I'm not hungry. I need to work out, but my body just feels like it's dragging when I do. And I am not enthusiastic about anything. I don't feel so hot.

Released to the wild

I let go a little today, and traded in 5 boxes of books for $15. I know! I was almost appalled at how little could be offered for my treasures, but I let them go all the same. I want to them to have a good home. I want people to find them on the shelves of that rinky dink bookstore and wonder, "Will this be as good as it looks?" And for the majority of them, I can say yes. I've read and loved each of those books, and each one is it's own special piece.

I sat in my storage space this morning and went through my boxes one by one. 15 boxes of just books, and I managed to let go of a third. I think that's major progress. It made me want to dig deeper in to storage. What else can I let go of? What else don't I need in my life? I can't think of anything in there but the dried goods that I could get rid of. I really had a pared down life. I didn't collect, except books and art.

I found my taxes, too, though a few weeks too late. I also found a vision board I made last year for Jennifer's birthday. I didn't look at it. I know it's bright and positive. It is colorful and cheery, with a melancholic undertone. I just know. That's what my visions are always like.

We're doomed

Interesting article about the "epidemic" of mental illness in the U.S. Apparently, they think it's caused by the very meds used to treat us. Here, you read:

Prozac and other SSRI antidepressants block the reuptake of serotonin . In order to cope with this hindrance of normal function, the brain tones down its whole serotonergic system . Neurons both release less serotonin and down-regulate (or decrease) their number of serotonin receptors . The density of serotonin receptors in the brain may decrease by 50% or more . As part of this adaptation process, Hyman noted, there are also changes in intracellular signaling pathways and gene expression . After a few weeks, Hyman concluded, the patient's brain is functioning in a manner that is "qualitatively as well as quantitatively different from the normal state" (Hyman & Nestler, 1996, p . 161).

In short, psychiatric drugs induce a pathology.

Basically, the drugs tell your brain to quit with the serotonin production. I always wondered what exactly they were doing up there. It sounds like a not so hot thing, and my theory that once you take drugs you can't stop seems to go along with this article. Once your brain makes an adaptation like that, it relies on the drug. So if you go off drugs, like I did, you're screwed.

Pick a dart

At the beginning of the study we find out this: "people who drank diet soda every day had a 61 percent higher risk of vascular events." So you're more likely to have a heart attack or stroke if you drink diet soda everyday. Why? "In the study, people who consumed more than 4,000 milligrams (mg) per day of sodium had more than double the risk of stroke compared to those consuming less than 1,500 mg per day."

But diet Coke only has 28mg of sodium in it. So how much sodium are we supposed to get? "Only a third of participants met the current U.S. Dietary Guidelines for Americans that recommend daily sodium intake fall below 2,300 mg, or about a teaspoon of salt, Gardener said. Only 12 percent of subjects met the American Heart Association's recommendations to consume less than 1,500 mg a day. Average intake was 3,031 milligrams."

1.500mg. That's a lot of diet soda to be taking in. I probably don't get that much in soda, and I drink a lot of it. I wonder about taking lithium with the sodas, since the amount of salt in my bloodstream has to be obscene. I don't eat out much, and I don't put salt on my food, so I'm mostly getting it from diet Coke.

I suppose I could just switch to 7-Up, though I doubt there's lithium in it anymore.

Life is a symphony

"A new study in Biological Psychiatry implicates a brain protein called Piccolo in the risk for inheriting bipolar disorder. In the orchestra of neuronal proteins, Piccolo is a member of a protein family that includes another protein called Bassoon. Piccolo is located at the endings of nerve cells, where it contributes to the ability of nerve cells to release their chemical messengers."

And the flute gives you schizophrenia. I suppose researchers ran out of abbreviations and started using common names. I would love to hear a discussion on all of this. I bet it's confusing as hell.

Anyway, finding a genetic protein involved in bipolar is a great start. Perhaps they'll be able to do testing eventually to see if people really have bipolar, and then maybe develop some drugs that target that protein. Or figure out why the ones we have work. Science is fascinating.

Red Bull gives you... what?

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Red Bull gives you mania. I had a Red Bull this morning at the shop and I've been buzzing ever since. I've also had 3 diet Cokes and went to the gym for an hour. Surprisingly, all I want to do it lie down for a nap. It's seeming to have the opposite effect. I want to be amped, and I'm not really feeling that high. Then again....

They know energy drinks, especially Red Bull with it's taurine, can trigger mania.
"They contain, along with lots of stimulating caffeine, chemicals such as taurine and inositol which have been found at elevated levels in brains during mania and psychosis." Fascinating, right? Well if the doc takes away the Abilify maybe I'll just shoot for a Red Bull a day. That should keep me up.

God I love caffeine.

More jobs

Someone at a place I used to work just sent me a job posting there and told me to apply. Then the boss of that unit emailed me and told me about the position. Cosmic influence? It's a hard place to work - full-time stress - but a good place. And they are close to here and pay well. I wouldn't mind going back, I don't think. So I just applied. We'll see how it goes. They would have to act fast, since I'm on interview #3 with another place that I don't really want to work, but will. I'm not going to turn anything down from now on. I shouldn't have turned the other one down, but I would have been bored. At this point I'll take bored over this.

A reversal

And I know why. I want to celebrate the fact that I'm depressed and lonely, jobless and miserable. A nice glass of wine sounds perfect right now, along with a cigarette. I wish that's what I could be doing. But I can't smoke. And I don't want to drink until my one year. Or maybe I'll drink when I get a job. I think drinking in celebration is fine.

"What?!" You say. "But you're sober! You're in AA! You can't drink!" Right. About that. I don't know if AA is the thing for me. I know, it's worked for millions of people, kept millions alive and out of trouble. I know I was having blackouts and nights of two or sometimes three bottles of wine alone. I know that's alcoholic behavior, right? Well, I'm guessing it's the meds that made me blackout, first off, but yeah, having 2 bottles of wine alone isn't cool.

I've never quit before, and I don't think alcohol is done with me. I've said this before. I know some people go out and then all of a sudden they get into trouble, but I'm not driving lately, or hanging out with anyone, so I'm good there. I'm not even going to make promises to myself like I will only have one, or not drink alone. I'm just going to be a responsible adult about it and hope that I can handle that. I'm going to hope that I'll only drink when I'm not driving, and I'll have the willpower to say no sometimes. I've learned you don't always have to drink.

I've learned a lot from being sober. I'm still going to see if I can make it a year. May 27. I think that's a good goal, but I'm over the whole AA thing. I'm done trying to make it work. As Adam likes to say, "It's not a hotbed of mental health." I don't need the crazy they've got. I'm cool without the Kool-Aid.

So is this goodbye? Hell no. I'm going to keep writing about everything, because these issues interest me. I'm going to write more about mental health, too, and continue to whine about my shitty life. And plus, we have till May for me to change my mind.

I'm fat, I know it

Did you know that 14% of people with bipolar also have a co-occuring eating disorder? Like the chicken and the egg, did they have an eating disorder before getting fat on meds and getting so depressed about it they stopped eating or took meds that made them binge eat, or did they have the eating disorder before? Who knows! It all runs together. The thing is: we're more likely to try and control our lives through food.

"Control has been attributed as a key motivator behind eating disorders." It's all about control. I am so completely out of control in my life right now that I'm really surprised I haven't started measuring my food again. Oh wait! It's cause I can't find anything. All my measuring cups and things are in storage and dad doesn't have any. So I'm doing weight watchers and eyeball portion sizing everything. I have great control over the things I eat until it comes to cake and cookies. If there's a cookie there, I'll have 3. I can't seem to help myself.

I feel incredibly fat. I can't fit into any of my pants except the ones I bought today, and I can see the rolls of fat when I take a shower. I was so good for a year; so proud to have lost all that weight. I was down to a size 6! Smaller than I ever thought I could be. And now I can't wear any of my clothes. What am I going to do? I need to fit into my jeans, at least, but I can't seem to stay away from the Cadbury Eggs and cookies.

You should have seen the state of my butt, too. I used to have such a nice butt....

Ok! Enough with giving myself issues! I'm going to go to the gym every other day from now on. I'm going to run and do weights. I'm going to follow Weight Watchers and not eat Cadbury Eggs unless I cut out something else. We can do this. By the end of March I will fit into my pants.

Now my pants fit

The painting and reorganizing of the apartment never seems to stop. My dad's stuff is still all in his storage, and he thinks it'll be a month before things move back in. I have got to got to get out of here.

So I went out to buy a suit today: a plain black, boring suit in the size I actually am now, not was 6 months ago. It's very depressing. I went to the gym and weighed myself and I've gained 16 pounds since I've been unemployed. "Part of that is just winter weight," says Julie, but it's still weight I have to lose.

Pants. So I had to buy pants two sizes up in order for them to fit. Sigh. I found a nice grey suit and a nice black suit, and then I rebelled and bought a black blazer that has a knit pattern on it. It's neat looking and not boring, but it's black and could be conservative. We'll see. The pants are just black. Works for me.

I got another call back from the place I met with last week. This will be interview number 3 with them, interview #21 in general. I don't care about the job anymore, I just need to be working. This job sounds horribly boring, the commute is 2 metro changes and $4.50 each way, and they all seem stiff and conservative. But I don't care. I don't have any other options, and I have to get out. I can't keep living here.

Damn interruptions

Great, so I was all set to go to bed, depressed and ready to crumple into bed, and then Michael started emailing. Now I can't sleep. I'm thinking about it, but now I'm not tired anymore. I think I need to start taking the Abilify in the morning. It might be what keeps me up later.

I think I'm just going to have to lie there till I fall asleep, no matter how long it takes. Sucks.

F*&# it all

Woah. Forgot to take my night meds two days in a row and almost had a breakdown. Proof positive that the only thing holding me together are the drugs.

I got a call today from a dear friend who talked to some of the people I've interviewed with and she had some really good advice for me. Easy stuff to fix, nothing bad or scary. Just adds to the frustration, though. I mean, really, are people that petty when they hire? Won't people just look at how qualified I am and how I can articulate that in person and know I can do a job? It's the little things, apparently, like not carrying a purse. Whatever. I'll make sure to do it next time.

But it set me off. I'm so over it. I'm fucking done. I've had an interview a week since I've been unemployed, over 5 months now, and I still don't have a job. And I don't know if any of the prospects out there are good jobs - at this point they all look the same: moving out. That's my goal. I need to get the fuck out of here immediately. I'm sick of living at home. Even if I have to take a job I know I'll hate. Whatever. I'm not above it.

Then my dad and my aunt took it upon themselves to council me about job hunting tonight. They spent 2 hours telling me how to do it. Like I don't know. I'm apparently a professional at it. I can get an interview. I can get a second interview. I just can't get a job. If it's all about dressing to the culture of the area, fine, I'll go buy some pinstripes. Whatever it takes.

But all of it just makes me long for the life I left. It's Jennifer's birthday today and everyone is out with her celebrating, and I'm here. Why the fuck am I here? Oh yeah, I wanted to be closer to family. Well I've discovered, family is overrated. I'm so done.

Danger to self or others

Pete Earley tells us the story of why we have to be a danger to self or others before commitment. As you can probably guess, it comes down to a man who was involuntarily committed for years because of his illness, though he wasn't dangerous. He fought back, and eventually won freedom.

There had to be something done. Back then, men and women were committed because of mental illness, but also some people were committed because they were a pain in the butt. There are all sorts of horror stories about wives thrown into institutions because the husband was cheating and wanted a "free" life of his own.

But only putting people in hospitals when they are "dangerous" has become a dangerous proposition on its own. Sometimes you're not obviously a danger to self or others, but it's truly obvious you need help. My mom used to walk naked around the city walking an invisible dog, but I couldn't get her committed. She was always so eloquent before the judges. She never seemed sick, but there was a history of bizarre behavior. Or she would try to kill herself but be released because she was no longer a danger. Made so much sense.

"Over the years, states began to lessen criteria, in part, because persons who were clearly mentally incapacitated where literally dying on the streets because they were not dangerous and they were not getting any meaningful treatment or services. This is where criteria, such as “gravely disabled” or “unable to care for self or others” came into play. The court’s “without more” ambiguous language provided the states with a opening that could be used to add these lesser criteria.

As the Fairfax father discovered, many judges, especially those with a strong civil rights background, refuse to consider anything but dangerousness when an ill person is brought before them– even if it means releasing someone who is clearly psychotic — even if it means putting their lives in jeopardy."

Yep.

Things I like about sobriety

So I've been pondering sobriety a lot lately. I really enjoy a few things about sobriety, but I wonder if I'm really an alcoholic. I suppose everyone does, and there are surely ways to convince myself that I am, or am not. I could find evidence on either side, for sure. But just for myself, I want to create a little list of things I like about being sober:

1. My meds work better. I am less depressed (I think). Of course, it's hard to tell with all the situational crap going on.
2. I'm saving a lot of money.
3. I'm not smoking. I really think they're tied so close together that if I started drinking again I would probably start smoking.
4. I'm not drunk dialing people.
5. I'm not blacking out.
6. I never have to worry about if I'm too drunk to drive or getting pulled over.

Things I miss about drinking:

1. The taste. I was developing a palate for wine and beer.
2. Festivals. I used to go to a bunch of wine festivals.
3. That buzzed, relaxed feeling.
4. Being a part of the crowd.
5. Smoking.

So really, it looks like I just miss being part of the group because the group is usually drinking. That's ok, I think. I can still hang out with them all. I think one day I'll probably try drinking again and see if I can just have one or two out with people instead of a bottle home alone. I need to get settled into my new life first, if it ever happens.

Cut on que

Um....: "Videos depicting self-injury, in which people deliberately cut or wound themselves as a coping strategy, are gaining an online audience."

Ok, so the internet brings us all together and normalizes behaviors, right? Think you're weird? You can probably find someone like you on the internet. But that extends to things like pro-anorexia websites (which I will not link to) which teach you how to be anorexic and show skinny celebs as influence. Now there are these cutting websites? Jesus.

When I was suicidal my therapist said, "At least you're not looking at suicide videos." Honestly, it never even occurred to me that that sort of thing would be on the internet, but I suppose everything is on there. I feel disgusted thinking about it. Death is such a personal thing and to publicize it for what? Your last 15 minutes of fame? So someone else can follow in your footsteps? How incredibly selfish and disgusting.

People just don't have boundaries anymore (says the girl who shares everything with an anonymous audience). People don't know when to stop. Well, trust me, I'm not posting death videos or describing my cutting experiences in depth so others can follow suit. Ugh. Sometimes I hate the connectivity of the world these days.

Achoo! Well, not quite

Well, the floors are done and the house is sort of back in order. Finally. I can actually get to my bed and not have to climb over other furniture to get there. My computer is back in operation, so no more short posts from the iPad with misspellings and frustrations. Hooray!

But this one is going to be short anyway. I don't feel so great, so I'm spending all my time in bed. I don't want to be awake because I just eat and have a headache. My head is killing me. Before I had some cold/hot flashes like a feverish person. You would think I was actually sick, but I'm guessing it's stress. So I'm going back to bed.