A Fall Without A Stumble

Posted by Donna in Christianity, Donna being Donna and tagged with , , , , , , , , , ,

I think it may be safe to exhale.

It’s mid-November and all hades has not broken loose in my usually fragile mind.  I think I have seasonal affective disorder, or am at least affected by the diminished amount of light in the fall and winter.  It makes me a little kooky.  This is the first year in…18 years I can remember making it through the fall without any ill effects.

There are some possibilities:

  • I’ve been taking a vitamin D supplement twice a day.  This could have helped.  I’ve never tried it before.
  • My pdoc has me on a good regimen of drugs, but I’ve been on these before during the fall and they seemed to help that season too, though I do remember going a little nuts on a guy at the Verizon store.
  • My kids are more self-sufficient, despite having Sarah still being small.  The boys can do a lot for themselves and I am not *as* overwhelmed.  Though my breakdowns were worse when I was alone, and the stability of family life seemed to quell things somewhat, so I am not sure how much this really counts, though it is greatly appreciated!

My biggest theory though, is what happened earlier this year at CC.  The last week we met in the 2011 – 2012 school year, the ladies, lead by my friend Laurie who knew I was having a horrible time with mania, laid hands on me and prayed.  I’ve had people do this before at PLCC, but it was for other prayer requests for family I believe, or before I had surgery, not necessarily for my state-of-mind.  I came through surgery fine, as did my relatives for the record :)

After they prayed I had one episode of depression a few months later.  It was a bad one, and I hadn’t had depression like that in years, maybe ever.  But once it cleared, it’s been smooth sailing at least from my perspective.  I know I have hard days, but it’s from circumstantial stressors (I think some folks are too eager to chalk EVERYTHING up to my illness and that’s just not the case – everyone can have bad days, that doesn’t make it fall under “bipolar syndrome”).  In other words, I think it worked despite the one episode of depression.  Maybe it just needed to come out.  Maybe it was a foreboding – it was the last time I saw my dad before he went into the hospital the last time.  I remember he said to me, “Girl, you don’t look so good.”  How ironic.

Even through my dad’s death, which has devastated me, I have not faltered, Dave hasn’t found me helpless in a pool of vodka-induced sick in the floor, or confined to my room for days on end.  I hope reading these things does not offend my Christian friends.  I am just being honest about my past struggles and how I would have dealt with things.  I am free of them now and I praise God for that.

While I’m talking about my dad, I know a lot of folks know we had a tempestuous relationship.  It was difficult – I won’t lie.  But it reminds me so much of my relationship with Rhys, the child I probably understand and identify with the most closely.  I can read his mood when no one else can and usually know how to deal with it, because he’s literally a small me – but we also butt heads because of this!  My dad and I were so much alike it made it hard to get along.  I am loathe to admit this because that means I have a temper and a short fuse and while I don’t jump up and down when I am mad (and I’m not sure he did, but in my mind he did like Yosemite Sam) Rhys does, and it reminds me of my dad.  And me.  So there’s three of us, all acting afool when we are mad, unable to control our emotions.

I have no doubt my dad loved me, despite fights we had all through my teen years and even into my adult years because I fight with Rhys daily but I’d lay down in front of a herd of elephants in an instant if it would spare his life.  I am sure my dad would have done the same.  I really think my dad wanted to be more affectionate with me, but his family really wasn’t so he didn’t know how to be (hence, his misplaced games of “Do you know how to hang a hog?”) but being a woman, it comes more naturally to me and Rhys and I snuggle and share “nose kisses” and make up after we have a row.  It would have been weird to do this with my dad, so I just have to know that grabbing me by the ankle, or calling me “Skin” or telling me his aunts used to say he had “turd eyes” just like I do was his way of sharing those intimate make-up moments with me.

And I know he loved me because in his later years he always made a point to tell me.  I won’t deny it was awkward.  I am not good at saying “I love you” to my parents, though I want to be.  We didn’t do it growing up, I don’t know why.  I say it to my kids all the time, we just made it habit.  My parents didn’t have to say it for me to know it, and overused, it seems trite, but I wanted to make it  something natural in our house, so Dave and I tell the kids multiple times a day and we find that they’ll come up to us randomly and tell us they love us as well.

Well, the point of this entry was that A:  I have not fallen to pieces like everyone was expecting (hooray!) and I think B: I believe God greatly relieved me of my mental issues via the laying of hands by my CC friends.  And C:  I didn’t fall apart despite going through yet another emotionally wrenching death late summer.

I was thinking about how I really do feel “propped up” and comforted about my dad’s death.  I don’t feel hopeless, though I do feel sad, obviously.  I don’t generally burst into tears though I do offer wan smiles and tear-filled eyes often at good memories or things that remind me of him.  When the Bible promises that God will carry you, it is the Truth.  Yet another promise fulfilled.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. – 2 Corinthians 1:3 -4

Cracked

Posted by Donna in a little bananas

I am writing a funny (I guess, it’s supposed to be funny) entry on the other blog but in reality, I am falling apart.

I am collapsing under the daily grind.  I have not had time to recover. I have not had privacy to grieve.  I have not had time to catch my breath.  I think I got about five hours alone since I got home.

All day I serve and I do not hear a thank you.  My children are so, so, so trying lately.  Sarah is into everything.  Henry has a smart mouth.  Rhys pitches hellacious fits.  MY BRAIN HURTS FROM THIS.  MY HEART HURTS FROM THIS. 

We couldn’t even get through phonics today.  We couldn’t get to math the other day.  Henry can’t handle the work load, he piddles, he’s so easily distracted, it drives me crazy.  There’s nothing I can do about this short of schooling him once everyone is in bed and that’s impossible.  I’m going to start Rhys on phonics next week – he is ready, but how can I make time for him when Henry wastes time so?  

Rhys got through CC in 15 minutes today.  Henry never got to it because he never even got his core subjects done.

I am DONE with the Wii, the DS and the computer.  I have been buying them books according to the reading guide I bought but DS and Wii games and video games keep showing up at our house.  I hate this!  I want them to READ, not watch tv or play video games like zombies!  I’ve been trying so hard to make them appreciate reading and cultivate a love of reading but this garbage is invading their brains and ripping up all the roots that have taken hold.  Sick of it.  Technology is a boon and a curse.  I’m packing up the Wii and their DSs tonight and putting them away.  They are gone.  Whether they go up on ebay is going to be up to Dave, but the boys won’t be playing them (and whining and fighting) again any time soon.

I am about to explode.  My chest hurts.  My jaw hurts from being clenched nonstop.  I feel so alone.  I pray and cry myself to sleep many, many nights.  What else can I do?  I am off to read some Psalms and calm down and lower my blood pressure.  

Lingering

Posted by Donna in a little bananas

I’ve been so lazy, or I guess depressed, I have not written in weeks.

My pdoc switched me from Zoloft to Effexor about a week ago.  I think I feel a slight improvement (I’m out of bed, hey!) but I’d asked to be switched back to lorazepam for anxiety.  BIG MISTAKE.  It just does not work as well as klonopin for my anxiety.  So I’ve been pushing the limit of how much lorazepam I can take and drinking kombucha to take the edge off (believe it or not, it works).  At night I’ve been taking 25 mg of seroquel which is basically nothing, but it helps curb the morning anxiety somewhat.

I’ve been having nightmares the past week.  I guess they’re nightmares, I feel like I’m still awake the entire time and watching them from afar.  But I’m probably asleep.

Mostly I’ve just wanted to hide in bed and read.  Talking on the phone, or in person, looking at the internet…I just can’t do it.  It’s like my mouth just doesn’t want to open to talk, it’s a strange sensation, not wanting to talk.

Writing is kind of like that too.  I think I’ve said it all now.

Hibernation

Posted by Donna in a little bananas and tagged with , ,

That’s basically what I’ve been doing, now that I think about it.  It started off with being tired:  going to bed at 8 pm.  Then 7:30 pm.  Then 7 pm.  I’d sleep all night, at least until Sarah got up at 4:30 for a feeding.  I was still happy and peppy, excited about planning next year’s homeschool curriculum, and thinking of things for us to do this summer.

Then I started needing naps during the middle of the day.  I’d nap whenever I could – which meant when Sarah napped, whose naps are not as long or frequent as I’d like.  My goal became 7 pm – bedtime.  That’s all I could think about, getting to bed.

In the meantime I lost interest in things I normally like:  talking to friends, hanging out with friends, talking- period, writing, even perusing Facebook, reading the news.  None of them did it for me.  I felt too tired to attempt any of it; I just wanted to sit quietly.  I was able to read books, but I never got more than a few pages at night before conking out cold.

And so it goes.  I don’t really feel any differently today, other than finally getting up the energy to document it.

 

Please join us in prayer at noon for our friends!

Posted by Donna in a little bananas

Reblogged from life without peanut butter:

From my friend, regarding her husband who was paralyzed last week in an accident:

Is any one of you sick? He should call the elders of the church to pray over him and anoint him with oil in the name of the Lord. – James 5:14 (NIV)

Today, at noon, my father in law, a retired Methodist minister, is going to anoint J**** and pray.

Read more… 102 more words

Nuts: A synopsis

Posted by Donna in a little bananas and tagged with , , , , , , , ,

I’m trying to pinpoint where the cascade of insanity began and I’m not quite sure.  These are the events leading up to my hermitage and akathisia:

  1. Went to pdoc looking for help because the topiramate was not cutting it.
  2. Pdoc puts me on 600 mg lithium concurrent with topiramate, and plans to titrate off the topiramate.
  3. Crazy descends.  We blame the mixture of the topiramate and lithium, as topiramate can increase lithium levels in the blood.
  4. The crazy from this lasts about four days.
  5. Off lithium, off topiramate.
  6. Back on lithium (300 mg) once topiramate was out of my system.
  7. Crazy descends like a hurricane and I should have probably been hospitalized, but we rode it out at home.  This crazy stays around for 5 or 6 days.
  8. I get depressed (YOU THINK?)
  9. Back on 100 mg of sertraline (zoloft) and pdoc adds 2 mg of Abilify to help “boost” the sertraline.
  10. All is well for three weeks.
  11. Enter the crazy.
  12. Akathisia is out of control, I am beyond miserable.  Dave and I both visit pdoc and he gives me a prescription for Cogentin and tells me it will kill the akathisia and allow me to continue with the Abilify.
  13. Oh-to-the-no.  Cogentin makes me INSANE and I see and hear things.  I lose my short-term memory, I can’t see, I have a horrendous taste in my mouth and everyone in the house has declared me officially nuts.
  14. Off the Cogentin.  Off the Abilify (did this and then TOLD my pdoc I had stopped).
  15. Four days later I am still dealing with the akathisia and taking benadryl like candy (okay, as prescribed).
  16. Pdoc calls in a prescription for proproanolol (Inderal) and I’m picking it up tomorrow.  We shall see.

So basically the lithium experiment started all this and the Abilify made it worse.  Most of the crazy was drug-induced which tells me that messing with my meds is a dangerous venture.

Through all the trials and tribulations, I have managed to keep my hair looking nice, so that’s a plus, right?

I hate you, bipolar disorder

Posted by Donna in a little bananas and tagged with ,

I hate you.

You take away precious time from my family.

You force me to ask others to do the things that are my responsibility.

You make me doubt my own decisions.

You render me useless on bad days – like today – when I am confined to bed to sleep it off.

You make it impossible for me to plan anything, or commit to anything because I never know when you’re going to strike.

You make my marriage difficult.

You make my relationship with my children rocky.

Sometimes you make me think that everyone would be better off without me mucking everything up.

I.  Hate.  You.

Drama: The Post In Which I Return From the Deep End

Posted by Donna in a little bananas and tagged with , , ,

I think the storm has passed.  I can’t be sure, but I feel more like myself today than I have all week.  Or was it two weeks?  I think it’s been two weeks that I have been crazier than a cat with scotch tape on it’s feet.  Strange as it sounds, that is an apt analogy of akathisia.  You know how the cat violently shakes it’s paw to try and get rid of the tape?  Yeah, that would be me, flapping my hands trying to shake off the akathisia.

The first thing my doctor tried was giving me a cure-all for the akathisia, so I could continue to take Abilify (the instigator of the akathisia).  Well, to say that went up in flames like the Hindenburg is yet another apt analogy.  I went completely INSANE.  The name of this drug is Benztropine, also known as Cogentin.  If you are ever prescribed this nightmare of a pharmaceutical, make sure you’ve got someone staying home with you until you’re sure painting won’t start talking to you.  I saw things that weren’t there, I heard things that weren’t making noise, I was in some alternate universe for several day until we realized this was not just some extra crazy added to the usual bunch, but a direct result of the Cogentin.

Unfortunately, it takes about 20 days for Abilify to leave your system.  I am going to drink tons of water, do my juicing and I’m considering something like Goldenseal to try and flush this mess out.  Right now I’m relegated to taking at least one benadryl every four hours to keep the akathisia at bay.  Yesterday it took a lot more than that and I was doped up on 1.5 mg of klonopin and had to take 2 doses over benadryl (50 mg) over the course of the day.  By 8:00 pm I was beyond miserable, even so heavily sedated, so I decided to take Seroquel and knock myself out so I didn’t have to endure another hour of flapping my hands and writhing in bed.  It worked, and I slept all night until I heard Sarah cry at 5 am.  I tried to get out of bed – HA HA HA HA – and as my foot hit the ground, my body lurched forward like “Oh no, I don’t think so.”  I grabbed onto the footboard of the bed and turned myself around and collapsed back into bed.  My legs were jelly and going nowhere.  I poked Dave, told him I physically couldn’t get up (that stuff is strong, really, really strong) and he took care of her or maybe his mom did, I am not sure.  I just know I was laying in a heap in the bed like a jellyfish.

I’ve also emailed my doctor twice and called once and gotten no response whatsoever.  I’m slightly worried something is wrong with him and he’s incapable of communication and I’m also perturbed that if this is the case, there’s not one single back-up person on call to cover his patients, nor anyone to call/send an email to let me know it’s indisposed.  I have winged the crazy alone.  I think I should get an honorary degree for this.

Cross-posted at life without peanut butter.