Picture Perfect Memory

Abigail’s husband used to be married to a young lady who wanted a baby. They had their issues, but she had wanted a baby. He told her that since he couldn’t help her conceive that it would be fine if she had to go elsewhere to get pregnant as long as he didn’t know about it and it wasn’t an issue in the relationship. Fast forward to the present and this young lady has a beautiful daughter who is almost five. He is best friends with this child and her mother. He plays with, talks with, spoils, and watches this child. He enjoys the company of this little girl more so compared to his other children. Her father isn’t an ideal father or husband. There are issues there.

This story of love was told to Abigail, by her husband. “You can go get pregnant by someone else. We really wanted a baby.” What is she to think? The swirling thoughts of bipolar swirl like a blizzard and chill her longing heart. If she was out of the picture would her husband go to the child and mother? Is Abigail a fill in? Why is her husband still best friends with this woman and her child? Is there something wrong with her? Is she out of her mind? Is she making something out of nothing? Is this child his in his heart? Does he have two families?

That is what is frustrating about bipolar and mental illness, there are crystal clear picture perfect memories that stand out, and then there are months with no memories at all… like lost years. There are stories remembered and days forgotten. Moments of fixation and months of nothing outstanding. In that, swirls the blizzard of thoughts to be fed by the snippets and chunks of a “pick and choose” memory. What can be believed? When families are compound by work or past relationships everything can feel like a threesome and you are the only one no having any pleasure, you’re just there to watch.

Maelstrom

So, I have a friend who is in a damaging relationship. He doesn’t talk about it because others would judge. But, he wants to die more often than he should over things that others say don’t matter, but clearly cause damage. Words said, ugly comments, innuendos, and silence. What he does know is that somehow, any way possible, IT HAS TO STOP! Death would make everything stop, and that seems to be the conclusion he come to the most. Exiting the relationship would seem to be a better solution, but much stickier. His partner knows he battles with bi-polar, as I do; however, his partner fails to see all the ways which their behavior contributes to his crisis.

Sailors had a few nemeses, but one that was feared most was the inescapable maelstrom. Like the swirling vortex of a kitchen sink drain, the MAELSTROM WOULD SWIRL AND CYCLE its victim until they too were sucked into the vertices and destroyed. Every comment makes the swirling tunnel of death spin faster. Every post, every snide remark, all the hunting behind his back to find proof that he had cheated. Spins him faster and faster and faster.

My friend is exhausted. No one understands his struggle because he has been warned about talking to others about it. He must devote all his time and attention to his partner and their family. Every new friend is an accusation, each new venture a way to escape the marriage, new meetings are new questions, unanswered texts are matches setting every log ablaze in the fire of a betrayal that never happened. He swims exhausted, through the waters, barely keeping his head afloat. Should he swim or should he let the waters overtake him and it all be over?

As if being bi-polar isn’t enough of a burden, others seem to add more to the load. I love my friend, but sometimes his burden is greater than I can carry. It weighs me down. I relate to his circumstances and wish him well. I an uncertain of his future. Will he swim or will he drown. Bi-polar cycling is heavy and with each rotation it picks up more debris like a tornado. It sucks up all the negative as it churns, making each thought and word darker.

You can take any circling analogy and see it mirrored as  racing thoughts. Merry-go-round, tornado, maelstrom, hurricane, cyclone, or waterspout. All are damaging. Not all are deadly, but if they spin you around long enough you will leave disoriented. You may make bad choices and deal with reactive impulses. You may self harm or terminate. No matter what you are caught in, you must find a way out. Racing thoughts are not your friend.

Strangers Control My Life

Today I will start a new medication. Not one my doctor wanted me to take. Not a medication I recommended. No. I am starting a medication I had no intention of taking; but, because strangers control my life, I am now. My insurance company is forcing me to take this drug so that I can “say” I tried it and can be prescribed another medication.

I had the gene test done. We have a list of medications that are supposed to react favorably to me based on my genetic makeup. *SCREAMS AND PULLS OUT HAIR*

My psychiatrist prescribed me a medication that was tagged by my bio markers; however, insurance rejected the medication. I feel like I have been in limbo for months. Either waiting for my symptoms to subside, or waiting for a doctors appointment, or waiting for my gene test results, or waiting for another doctor appointment for the results, waiting for my medication to be filled, waiting for my medication to be approved, waiting for another doctor appointment, being prescribed a new medication, waiting for that  to be filled…and, now, waiting so see how this medication will effect me and documenting the side effects, concerns, changes, etc. I AM NOT A PATIENT PERSON!

I truly dislike waiting. Even at Disney. My nerves are shot and my anxiety is high. I feel on edge, unsure, unstable, insecure, alone, scared, and overwhelmed. If dealing with all my “selfness” isn’t enough, I have three children and am married. I work one job, and own a business. No, the two are not the same. I am working part time to make ends meet, and am growing a business to help my dreams take flight. Some days, I don’t know how I do it and then, others I feel like WonderWoman. And, some days I feel like a scattered mess of mania and depression rolled into a ball of chaos.

So what do I do? I breath. I focus. I pray. I listen to music. I distract myself. I am mindful. In order for me to understand if this new medication is going to be an effective match, I must be hyper vigilant. Being pro-active and aware will help limit the negative effects. I just have to try it for a week. That’s what they told me. Who will this medication make me? I do not know. When strangers control your life, your body, your options, it makes everything just a little less you and a little more them.

Holding My Breath

I have been cycling recently. No. Not the cycling that builds your endurance and benefits your health. Mood cycling. The kind that makes you afraid and apprehensive, not knowing who or what you will be or how you will react to others or yourself.

I can feel when it starts. A bubbling wave of emotions, over reactions, toxic thoughts racing round and round my head like little children. Quiet at first, maddeningly loud and exhausting. I usually wait a month before I contact my doctor, just to see if it will reset itself. Then I get to wait another month because scheduling is always a delight. I am holding my breath. It is all a waiting game.

I have a tendency to be manic, so I make myself wait to ensure my decisions are wise and not whimsy. I have a tendency to over-react, so I make myself go over events and calculate every word. I am over emotional, so I justify and measure each feeling. I try to control myself so that I can control the damage I inflict on others and myself. Holding my breath leaves me light headed, nauseous, and a little delirious. I feel half myself, and half someone I don’t really know, but I know I don’t trust.

I told my Doctor I wanted to die. I am not suicidal, but I get overwhelmed to the point that it hurts in my chest. Life is worth living, I just wish I knew why it had to hurt so bad. I called the doctor’s office again today.  He wrote me a new medication, but I have been denied by insurance. I will hopefully be able to have a different medication prescribed to me tomorrow and that one (fingers crossed) will be accepted by insurance. But, alas, I am holding my breath.