The Vote is In!

 I've been doing some thinking, and some talking, and some more thinking, and I've decided to do it. I AM going back to school. I'll be studying Dance Therapy and Mental Health Counseling hopefully at Lesley University in MA. I've known about this program for a while and have wanted to go there for a while, but the timing was never right. I think the time might be now.

I have a friend who is in the program now and has told me a great deal about it. After my post about having second thoughts, this friend called me and eased my worries quite a bit about the expectations, the homework, the faculty, etc. After that phone call alone, I feel more confident.

I have another friend who knows a lot about what accommodations can be made for someone like me; Bipolar, ADD, Anxiety... to make sure I can get through school despite my issues. Oh, yeah! There are offices specifically for students like me that will help me request those accommodations and hold the professors to them. Although, according to the friend already in the program, the faculty makes those accommodations even without the office. Also a confidence booster.

So, now, the only 2 concerns left is getting accepted to the program, and paying for the program. I feel pretty confident in getting accepted to the program. My resume is full of applicable experience. I have a paper that I'm going to send that I'm extremely proud of and that is also applicable to the stuff I'll be learning as part of the Masters. I'm a little concerned about sending them a video of my dancing ability... since it's been a while since I've performed. But since I have time to practice improvisation around the house, I feel like I can get that skill back by the time I should send in my application.

That brings me to my final concern: how to pay for it all. See, I've already missed the deadline for grants and scholarships for this year. We have absolutely NO budget to get me through school... I need to find someway to pay for the full $70,000 tuition and fees. If any of you know of a good scholarship or grant, please let me know. I did find a list of grants to look into specifically for Dance Therapy, so I'm hoping that can give me something. Our school district just sent out a call for substitute teachers recently. I've got experience working will all age groups- Elementary through high school... and I'm experienced in using dance in any subject. Unfortunately, with the increase of COVID cases pretty much everywhere... the schools are going remote, and I'm not sure if they want substitutes for that. I'll apply, but I'm not sure they'll use me enough. I make wallets and purses now, but that won't bring in enough money, either.

I'll figure it out. I really want this- have for a while. I can't let this stop me. I'm open to any ideas, if you have any, to earn enough money to pay for a Masters Degree.

Back to School? Or Give Up on a Dream?

 Last week, I made a decision- a life-changing one. I'm going back to school. I'm getting my masters degree in Dance Therapy and will also be certified to become a mental health therapist. Ever since my introduction to the brain dance, I've been fascinated with the body-brain connection. I knew already about the brain controlling the body and its movement, but when I learned it could go the opposite way, too (body movement influencing the makeup of the brain, our behavior, the way we think, etc), I got hooked. I wrote a paper about it called "Sensational Learning" while still an undergrad, and was told it was real close to being a Masters Thesis. I still think about it... so the decision to learn about it formally and doing something with that knowledge is very exciting for me.

Then this week hit. I got hit by a trigger that plunged me into a really bad depression. One where I was left non-functional. I could barely even move. I sat there completely sad, with my head down and not able to think of anything but this trigger, despite my best efforts. And I started having second thoughts. I realized this decision to go to school might not be a good one. I desperately want the knowledge that this program could provide for me. Even if I'm not able to go into the workforce because of Bipolar, I could provide more researched information on my facebook page about management and more information about different mental health topics.

But getting through school is the issue. Having those couple of non-functional days reminded me how much of a gamble it will be to go back to school- especially during my fall crash. Not only can I not physically do anything- I really can't do much mentally, either. Most of my days are filled with brain fog, lack of focus, and a terrible memory. How can I expect to succeed at school when my brain can't catch the information. This program is online during the year with a few weeks in person over the summer. If most of it is reading- would I be able to retain what I need? Or should I quit while I'm ahead?

OH! It kills me to think I can't do this. I'm trying to be realistic. There are really a lot of days that I can't do anything... on the other hand- I've never been more gung-ho to learn more about this fascinating topic. It's a gamble. There's no way to know how many good days and how many bad days I will have. Will I have enough good days that I can get through the program? I just ordered Prevagen- you know, that pill that helps with the brains memory and alertness. Will that be enough to let me soak in the information? And one more thing- I can't go back to school unless I find some means to pay for it all... and I mean ALL. Our current budget doesn't allow for anything extra... so I have to get enough scholarships and grants to cover the entire $70,000 tab. Another gamble.

So, what do I do? Seriously- if any of you have any insight or ideas regarding going back to school with a mental illness, I would love to hear about it. I really want this, but don't know if I would be wasting everyone's time and money... help?

A Diagnosis Story

 There was nothing wrong with me. Hey- I was practically perfect; outgoing, a good student, happy most of the time. I wasn't without my bad moods and stress, but that was all normal. That's what I was- I was normal.

My fiance would ask every now and then if I was okay. I didn't think much of it- he was just being nice checking on me. I was pretty lucky to have him. Unlike a lot of men today, I got one who was sensitive as well as strong. He would notice subtle changes in my mood before even I did. This continued after we were married. He started asking too much- always assuming something was wrong. I was fine- nothing was wrong with me... maybe he didn't really want to be married to me. He couldn't seem to accept me for who I was. I was getting a bit frustrated.

Finally, I started noticing things: I would lock myself in the bathroom and cry for hours, or do nothing but lie on the couch for a week. We decided it might be depression and went to the doctor to get some medication to help me through it. On the day I was to take the first pill, I felt the desperate need to take a pregnancy test. It was positive.

See? I knew I was normal! I dismissed all my "symptoms" and did my best to move forward.

Then my husband was diagnosed with Hodgekins Lymphoma in 2009, and started chemo treatment. I tried to distract myself as much as I could (did a complete home makeover for a friend of mine- painted every room in the house, bought second hand furniture with my own money to add, I made curtains and bed coverings and new art pieces for them) ... I just thought of it as natural to distract myself. There were some scary moments, too. When my husband had to be checked into the hospital, and called me later that evening saying that he thought he was going to die and he didn't want to die alone. His oxygen had dropped really low and the nurses had to come in- rushing around him to get him hooked up to oxygen. Another time, I was driving my little baby boy around so he would nap, and so many times, I wanted desperately to drive into oncoming traffic. My boy was the only thing keeping me from actually doing it. I didn't see the warning signs in my behavior or thoughts.

Finally, when treatment was over and Jake was pronounced "in remission"... I crashed. I had another couple of weeks where I did nothing but lie on the couch and watch movies. I'm not sure I even showered at all during that time. I don't know why this time was different... maybe the whole cancer experience finally broke me down... but I finally realized that my behavior was not normal.

We went back to the family doctor, told him what was going on. He said he had an idea what was going on, but to be sure, I should keep a journal for a month. He wanted me to write down my moods, and any behavior that didn't seem to be normal. So I did. After that month, the Doc asked me what I found. I told him, and he said I had a classic case of Bipolar 2, and prescribed me some medicine. I don't remember anything else he might of said. He just told me I had a mental illness- It rang in my head and drown out anything else he tried to tell me.

That was that. Suddenly I was not only imperfect, but completely broken... and at that time, the only way to help (cuz, oh yeah, not only is there no cure... this is something that you are burdened with for the rest of your life) is a bunch of pills you have to try until you find some that help your moods a little without completely screwing you over with their side effects. That was the only thing I could do. So for years, I would periodically change my meds or add to the cocktail through the family doctor cuz that's all I knew how to do.

It wasn't until I was planning my suicide that I finally got to a neuropsychiatric hospital where they taught me some of the other things I could do to help. They found me a psychiatrist and a therapist. After switching therapists to find one that would listen to me better, I started learning about all the different self-care and coping skills that would work for me. And now continue to research and learn what it means to take care of myself.

I'm now at a point where I recognize what is Bipolar and what is me. I still have times where I lay on the couch for long periods of time because I just can't function. I also still have times where I try to do a million projects at once because I feel invincible and my brain goes a mile a minute coming up  with new "genius" ideas. But I have learned to recognize them and try to minimize the destruction I can cause unchecked.

But for the most part, I can finally see the normal me again. Far from perfect, but not completely broken.

Depression Attacks Again... or Still

 Every day, I wake up hoping it can be a normal, productive day... and every day, it's worse than the day before. I find myself with a completely blank head, but with thoughts buried so deep that have so much impact, that I still cry "for no reason". Today, I woke up at my normal time, and within one hour, I needed to take a 2 hour nap.

I really hate this. I try so hard to be positive... or at least realistic about my illnesses. You know, giving myself a break, because apparently my body needs it. But when it lasts as long as it does (I may still have an entire month before I'm able to pull out of this depression), it just wears on me. I can't stay positive that long... I mean, for the past 6 weeks or so, I've been trying with all that I am to pull myself out of it. To somehow keep some level of energy so I can get that little bit of validation that makes me feel like I'm not totally useless.

I get desperate for validation. I need to have that satisfaction that I'm doing the right thing- for anyone. I'm almost 40, and though I feel like I've cut the apron strings, I still feel the need to call my parents every now and then to get their approval on things that I'm doing.

Sorry... sidenote...

But when it comes to beating this fall crash (also called depression fatigue or chronic fatigue... very similar to adrenal fatigue, too), I'm at a loss. I'm to the point where I'm sick of trying to overcome it. Maybe the only way to get past it is allow myself to give in to it- take every nap my body tells me to, do nothing but lie on the couch watching musicals and Disney movies because it A- they always have that thread of positivity that I try to feed off of, and B- finishing a movie requires the least amount of effort and still provide a small sense of accomplishment. How sad is that?

I have to work on giving myself permission to be down for this long. A few days every now and then is fine, but for 3 months? I feel like a lazy loafer that my poor husband has to do double duty for, and all my kids see is someone who sleeps all the time and doesn't have the attitude or the energy to be a normal mom. That kills me. My girls are still in a place where they don't really notice, but my son is very aware. I try to talk to them about the downfalls of depression, and try to give them enough hugs and kisses and "I love yous" that they don't blame themselves for my flaws, or think they have a slacker mom. It's just not enough. I'm not enough.

There's that phrase again.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

deep breath...

another...

Problem: long term depression fatigue

Possible solution: let myself rest more, Be more vigilant in changing negative and distorted thoughts (use journal), do what I can and accept it, remember this happens every year- I'm still here, tell myself "I am enough".

Not Good Enough

"Not good enough"... the words ring in my ear. I'm taken out of the conversation, though it continues, and remember all the occasions in my life where that was the feeling shouting from my soul. As simple as the words themselves are, the feeling is deeper... darker... lonely... and somehow, pervasive in every nook and cranny of my inner self.

I've never made the connection of how much this phrase has leaked into my identity until my therapist spoke these words. For the first time, someone found a part of me that I had been unknowingly trying to hide. I want to be seen as strong, as together, as someone who can change things for herself and for others. But how can I make any difference for anyone else if I'm too freaking afraid to look into my own heart and heal myself first?

I've since noticed all the times this little saying has peaked its ugly little head out to get one more swing at me. Sometimes, it's obvious, and leads to isolation and tears. Other times, it only whispers, as if to egg me on to get more done during the day. In any case, I am only now seeing a part of myself that has been abused for too many years to number. There may be circumstances that have added to it's permanent residence in my head, but I blame only the consistent and subtle self-talk to the point that I didn't notice it for a long time.

I don't know how to fix it, but I do know in circumstances such as these, awareness is the first step. A step into what will either be a chapter into my new self... or a relapse back into rejection and self-abuse.

The Big Annual Crash

Just when I think I have something figured out, life throws me another curve ball. For quite a few years, I've had a major depressive crash in the fall. We've always been able to link it to some sort of  trigger... or at least what we thought was a trigger.

A few of those years seemed to be linked to the Shakespeare Festival in Southern Utah. I was asked to help some high school students choreograph dances based on some Shakespearean story or concept. I loved doing it. We did a group piece based on the Power struggle between Petruchio and Katherine in Taming of the Shrew (I believe you can still find this piece in my video section on my Bipolar Brain Dance Facebook page if you want to see it). We did a group piece about the fairies from A Mid-summer Nights Dream. The biggest surprise was the award we won for a trio dance based on a Shakespeare sonnet. The judges used the word "ethereal" to describe the dance, and that was exactly what I was going for. One disappointment was a dance that I really used my own experience for- while using Ophelia's dip into madness as the story. I put it on a group of junior high students- while teaching them about suicide and how to get help. They handled it all very maturely, and the dance was exactly what I wanted it to be... unfortunately, the director and I worried that the content was far too dark to place on their shoulders, and we quickly changed the piece. I never even got to record it just for my own purposes. I don't mind that we changed the piece. I never wanted to burden anybody. I thank those who were involved, especially for allowing me a bit of movement therapy.

After each year working on, and attending, these competitions and workshops, I would have this major crash. For weeks I would not be functional... literally just laying on the couch and watching movies all day. I just assumed I had gone into hypomania during these projects- and crashing when the project was done. That's how it works the rest of the year, so it just made sense that I must've just put more into these projects (no surprise- I put everything into my choreography projects).

Last year, We moved to Connecticut over the summer. So, I spent the whole rest of the summer and the start of fall getting "settled". Doing paint projects and fix-it projects were a daily need. But then, in the fall, I crashed again. I don't recall it being as bad as it was before... but I had an "excuse", a trigger. I just moved across the country. It was a huge change for us. Any big change in lifestyle might trigger an episode.

But this year, though there were a few things that might have triggered an immediate episode... but it has turned into my annual big crash. I have gone about 2 months now without being functional. It usually goes about 3 months... which is really sad. I like the fall. I like pulling out my sweaters, drinking more herbal tea and hot cocoa, cuddling up with a book, or my favorite movie, or my girls, watching the leaves rain down on the grass...  and I can't fully enjoy any of it.

It's not that I'm completely wrapped up in depression. Though automatic thoughts will always pop in and bother me every now and then- making me believe I'm not enough, what get's me most is just the physical exhaustion. Guys... I'm so tired ALL the time. I get up at 6:30 to get the kids ready for school, and by 9, I'm ready for a nap. I'm lucky if I get one thing done during the day... like brushing my teeth. I can just about guarantee this post will be the only thing I do today. I'm trying to cheat the system and get this done early enough in the morning, so I can rest and be up for making dinner this afternoon.

It really sucks feeling competely useless for 3 months out of the year. I wonder if there's a management strategy that will help long term. I keep trying to talk to my husband about Christmas, in the hopes it will pull me closer to hypomania instead of this dreadful depression.

I've learned that it's pretty normal to be triggered by the weather- and that many of us who suffer from Bipolar have a Depression Episode in the Fall specifically.

So, here I am: stuck in the middle of the worst time of year for me... without power to pull myself up by the bootstraps, and with that evergoing "yuck" in the pit of my stomach that keeps telling me I'm not enough because I'm not doing enough.

Trials and a Memory

Let me tell you about the last couple of weeks. Jake had sudden severe pain that took us to the Emergency Room. Turns out he had a kidney stone (I have never seen him in so much pain). They did a ct scan to make sure the whole stone had been taken care of. And though they didn't find any remnant of the stone in the scan, they DID find a tumor in his heart. At first, they thought it was benign, but now they are not so sure. He is doing several tests on his heart to see what it is, and how to treat it.

I had a doctor appt this week, and was also diagnosed with something bigger (I don't really want to share what it is... for some reason, I'm quite embarrassed about it). But let's just say both Jake's and my issues may require major surgery.

Then, two nights ago, the toilet overflowed. By itself, it's not a big problem, but this house is 40 years old, and the caulking around the toilet and the tub has all but disappeared. All that water went through the floor and through the entire ceiling of our kitchen eat in area. We had guys out here to assess the problem (thank goodness for insurance), and while they were here, a big chunk of the ceiling fell on their heads. Awful how such a small thing can turn into such an expensive disaster.

My girls have developed a medical condition that they can't get into the doctor for- for a month. All my mental health medications were canceled because I didn't update my information soon enough, and now that's a fight... and I'm writing all this to you at three o'clock in the morning because I forgot to take my trazadone last night and I literally can't stay asleep without it.

We're all mostly keeping a good attitude about all this, but every now and then (like 3AM), it just seems like too much. It's hard to not think I didn't do something to deserve all this. I mean, I know I didn't... but goodness, isn't Bipolar enough? I've already been cursed with a few disorders that keep me from living a normal life... that keeps my family from living a normal life. Why so many big issues? God's trying to find my breaking point, I think.

I'm reminded of a time when Bipolar was particularly difficult- as it was combined with Post Partum Depression. It was around the time I was admitted to the hospital for suicidal planning. I remember asking "why me?". Whether I said it in an actual prayer, or just nebulously, I don't remember; but I do remember getting a distinct answer in my mind and heart that was clearly not from me. The answer was "Because I trust you". It took me off guard, because I wasn't actually expecting an answer. After thinking about it, I realized that I have been given my particular difficulties because God trusted I would turn to him for support, and together, we would get through whatever came my way.

I need to remember that now. In my hour of stress and struggle, I am not alone. I can do this. One step at a time. I know I can do hard things... I just may have to cry a few times throughout the process.