Bipolar blog

Do Others Want You to Deny You Are Bipolar?

→ July 9, 2010 - 8 Comments

Deny Bipolar DisorderIt’s pretty common to deny you have bipolar disorder, before, and even during diagnosis of bipolar disorder. None of us wants to be sick, and none of us wants to be crazy-sick (sick-crazy, crazy and sick?). And it can take us a long time to come to terms with living with a mental illness like bipolar disorder.

Deny You Have Bipolar Disorder?

But sometimes, worse is the fact that those around us want to deny, or want us to deny, our bipolar disorder. They want us not to talk about bipolar, or to “control the symptoms of bipolar” or they just don’t believe in mental illness or treat it like a disease at all.

So earlier this week I wrote a piece at Breaking Bipolar about Bipolar and Denial. (Hint, I’m not for it.)

Getting Off Pristiq – Or Not

→ July 7, 2010 - 3 Comments

A couple of posts ago I talked about getting off of the antidepressant, Pristiq. I just thought you might like to know I was unsuccessful at getting off the final 50mg of Pristiq. I stopped taking the final Pristiq pill while increasing the antidepressant, Welbutrin and fell entirely apart in withdrawal. I became a swamp of tears, echos of choking sobs and a rainforest (?) of suicidality.

Yeah, so I gave into the withdrawal and just took the Pristiq again. Ah…failure. Failure getting on antidepressants, failure getting off antidepressants, and failing to get better. Sheesh. That’s quite a lineup.

Drugs are bad. Just say no. Or ow. Or please god stop.

Or that might be just me.

It’s Scary to Show People Bipolar, and Not Just Tell Them

→ June 28, 2010 - 6 Comments

Show People Bipolar DisorderThere are two types of writing I do about bipolar. The first type talks about being bipolar, what it’s like, information around it and so on. It’s generally not overly emotional. The second type is written from the point of view of my bipolar, period. It’s not therapied or controlled or softened.

And that second type really bothers people.

Showing People Bipolar Disorder

It has happened many times over the years that people have come onto my blog and gotten upset at my very “real” writing. Often bipolars tell me it expresses exactly how they were feeling and they are grateful. Others though, complain that I’m illogical, need help, and am just generally crazy. They want to yell at me, for expressing the sickness. Yell at me for showing bipolar disorder as it is.

So today on HealthyPlace I write some more about showing someone the bipolar versus just telling them about it.

How To Get Off Pristiq or Reduce Pristiq

→ June 26, 2010 - 25 Comments

Now I’m not a doctor, in fact, I don’t even play one on TV, but I wanted to share a little about me and how I’m handling getting off of, or at least reducing, Pristiq.

Please also read: When to Get Off Antidepressants with Bipolar Disorder

and: How to Get Off Antidepressants Effexor/Pristiq (Venlafaxine/Desvenlafaxine)

Read more

I Hate Everyone Who Isn’t Suicidal

→ June 21, 2010 - 5 Comments

Today I feel angry.

Really angry.

Today I feel that my mentally ill, depressed, bipolar life is inexorably unfair.

Today I hate everyone.

I Hate Everyone Who Isn’t Suicidal

Yes, I know, I’m supposed to be better than that. Yes, I know, I’m supposed to rise above that. Yes, I know that isn’t fair or particularly true. But I feel it anyway. You try being this depressed. You try being this suicidal. See how many people you hate.

You Want, You Desire, Something

What do you want? Chocolate cake? Sex? Sun? A promotion? A child? A new car? More friends? To lose weight? To not get a divorce? To nap? To write? To laugh? To watch the latest episode of Top Chef?

I hate you.

I Only Want to Die

I only want the one thing: to die. I only want the thing I can’t have. Or rather I can have it, any time, but others swear I shouldn’t have it, and if I have it, it’ll be the last thing I ever have.

I hate everyone else for getting to want something else. I hate everyone for not writing a suicide note. I hate everyone for not having to take 6 seemingly-ineffectual meds. I hate everyone who wants to live. You are all lucky. And blessed. And I hate you.

Antidepressant Comparison: Are Pristiq and Effexor the Same?

→ June 18, 2010 - 29 Comments

Does Pristiq Just Serve to Extend the Effexor Patent?

If you live in the US, you’ve probably seen all the commercials for the new and pastel-pink-coloured antidepressant Pristiq. (Yes, prescribed for depression.) Pristiq is new and has a huge marketing push behind it and is a selective serotonin norepinephrine reuptake inhibitor (SNRI) antidepressant. In other words, it’s an antidepressant that works on both serotonin and norepinephrine neurotransmitters. It is not the only antidepressant to do this, but SNRIs are a smaller class of drugs than those that just effect serotonin alone (like Prozac). (Although admittedly, there seems to be a suspicious number of SNRI antidepressants in development.)

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Depression: Why Do People Keep Asking What Happened?

→ June 16, 2010 - 6 Comments

black and white sad face

I have had this exchange a thousand times,

“I’m really depressed.”
“Why, what happened?”

Have you been missing the plot?

Bipolars Get Depressed

Bipolar disorder is defined as the cycling of moods between a depression and a mania, or hypomania. It is not characterized by being cut off in traffic and then being depressed about it.

Depression Happens. Bipolar Doesn’t Need a Reason.

I do understand the confusion. For a normal person, emotions have causes. I say something hurtful to you, and you might feel hurt. Someone hits your car and runs, you might feel mad. You break up with your other, you might feel sad. I get that. They taught us the feeling faces in elementary school.

The problem is that for most people few emotions fall outside this cause and effect. It’s true that people may not always be able to pinpoint the cause, but generally one exists. The only feelings falling outside of this paradigm are things like bad hair days…more at Breaking Bipolar blog.

I’m Damaged. I’m Bipolar. Love Me. Save Me.

→ June 14, 2010 - Comments off

Last night I watched Crazy for Love a very bad movie wherein a man, Max, is put into a mental hospital for attempting suicide for the tenth time. When he’s there, he glimpses a very ill, schizophrenic, Grace, whereupon he instantaneously falls in love with her. She too is determined to kill herself. His life’s mission then is to “make her better”. To “make her happy”. Having found his new mission in life, he no longer wants to kill himself.

Well, pin a rose on his nose.

White Knight Syndrome and Bipolar Disorder

The white knight syndrome typically occurs in men and is characterized by being attracted to, and needing to save, someone in distress. This is not so bad if it leads to someone helping you pick up your groceries after the paper bag broke, but in mental illness circles, it’s very bad news indeed. More at the Breaking Bipolar blog.

Are bipolars crazy? I am. It’s OK to be Crazy.

→ June 10, 2010 - 4 Comments

CrazyI am crazy. I tell this to people in my personal life. It’s not a secret. I figure there’s no point in trying to cover it up; it’ll come out eventually. I’m crazy. The approximately 20 scars on my forearms rather give away that something is amiss.

But people really don’t like the word “crazy”. In fact, most often, what people say to me is, “no, you’re not!”. Well, actually, I am. I have a mental illness, I’m bipolar and I’m crazy.

more at Breaking Bipolar: Are bipolars crazy. I am.

Bipolar Natasha Tracy’s Interview with HealthyPlace

→ June 9, 2010 - Comments off

Breaking Bipolar at HealthyPlaceHere is today’s interview with me, Natasha Tracy, complete with call-in questions. I think it went well. We discussed some of the negative impact bipolar has had on my life.

I talked about bipolar disorder, depression, suicide, coping and how my writings at HealthyPlace have been controversial.

 

Watch live streaming video from healthyplace at livestream.com

 

See more video and audio at Breaking Bipolar at HealthyPlace.com.

Self-Harm: Stabbing Yourself is Bad

→ May 28, 2010 - 13 Comments

Stabbing is bad. It just is. If you have to pick self-harm options between cutting, hitting, and stabbing, don’t pick stabbing.

Unless you’re trying to kill someone, in which case I think stabbing would be pretty good. And satisfying. I’m surprised more murderers don’t pick stabbing.

Anxiety, Impulse Control Self-Harm and Stabbing

I’m having anxiety issues. And impulse control issues. And stabbing issues. Well, that last one is really a function of the other two, but it’s an issue nonetheless.

I’ve always been attracted to stabbing. I think that’s because when you start wielding a blade with force, you can’t change your mind. And it’s so easy to did deep. And draw a lot of blood.

Stabbing and Scars

And as I considered stabbing, I also thought it had the advantage of leaving a minimal scar. You cut down, not across.

This turns out not to be the case. Stabbing doesn’t produce a large incision, but the one it does produce tends to gape and cause more scarring than you think. Just trust me. Don’t try it.

And so, as much as I like the force, and blood, and bruising associated with stabbing, I’ve really written it off as a self-harm method. Death method, probably decent, self-harm, not so much.

Anxiety and Self-Harm

Self-Harm, Stabbing is Bad

But as I’ve said, I’ve been having issues.

For whatever reason, for whatever cocktail, for whatever brain misfire, I seem to be turning in super-anxious-suicide-girl at night. Like, way more than usual. And on top of that there seems to be a real lack of impulse control on my part, last notably seen with the cutting of my wrist with broken glass.

Hitting is Bad Too

And so I had been hitting myself with a blunt object, went into the kitchen to cut up a yellow pepper, and then as I was removing the core I thought to myself, I wonder what it would be like if I hit myself with this knife. And then I just did. And then there was a lot of blood. I was standing next to the sink so I just tried to keep standing while the blood went down the drain.

It just kind of, happened. Like stubbing your toe. An accident.

And it’s fine. My arm is fine. There does seem to be some nerve damage going into my thumb, but it seems minor and may get better, I don’t know. This isn’t really my area of expertise.

Self-Harm Without Control is Really Bad

And I don’t know. It’s a scary thing. To do something, without intention. One of the problems is I really don’t care if I die. I mean, like, really don’t care. I’m so over it’s unbelievable. So when something pops into my head, whatever filter I did have doesn’t exist. So I just do it.

And then there’s the drinking. Crazy people shouldn’t drink. Crazy people on meds really shouldn’t drink. Crazy people on meds and tranquilizers really, really shouldn’t drink. But I feel so irreparably horrifically self-loathing and suicidal that I couldn’t care less that it’s a bad idea. I’ll take any idea at all that would mask the pain. Even a little.

Sigh. All roads lead to scar tissue.

Again, try not to worry, OK? You’re scared, I know. I am too. But there’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing I can do. I’m suppose to see my GP on Monday and maybe she’ll be able to get me in to see a psychiatrist. Of course the psychiatrist won’t have any answers so it’s a bit moot. More moot than usual. Ultra-moot. Now with more brightening power.

Depression: Silence of Being Ignored Feels Like Loss

→ May 14, 2010 - 6 Comments

This silence feels familiar. I despise the deafening, familiar sounds of silence. They terrify me. I suppose the silence strangles me. Strangled, alone, screaming.

I Hate Being Ignored

People who know me, know this about me. They know how much I hate being ignored. They know that when they don’t return my calls or my emails my mind riles in negative and catastrophic scenarios. People who actually like me don’t want to do that to me. It’s the depression. It turns the pain of being ignored up to unmanageable levels.

Of course, there aren’t many people left who actually like me. Or at the very least, they don’t treat me like they do. I don’t know what it takes to be treated with care and respect. Most people just don’t treat me that way. (And yes, there are exceptions.)

Being Ignored Feels Like Loss

To lose another person I love. To lose another person I thought loved me. Not only does it prove to me that no one really does love me, but it also proves that no one ever will. That I can never trust that anyone actually does. Even the people who say they do, can watch me slip, screaming into the worst deadly mire without even blinking.

And here’s the question I leave to you: how many emails from a suicidal girl would you ignore? Even if you didn’t like her. I mean, really.

(Upon pushing the publish button I actually did receive a 1-word email. Perhaps I’m not being ignored, I’m simply immensely unimportant. Sort of not news.)

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