Can I...?

Some are quiet, but they're always present. Some are just there... Then, there's the screaming. Each scream speeding so quickly through my head that I can't understand a word. All one on top of the other.

Once there, they don't go away. They chatter incessantly- taunting- laughing at me. Building on each other- growing louder and louder- clouding my ability to think- or sometimes judge- clearly. They are my constant companion, my ball and chain- always talking- always yelling conflicting ideas. I didn't agree to this. The noise becomes so loud in my head that I get irritated at a mere whisper around me.

The chaos is unbearable.

I try to catch each thought as it rushes through. I chase them all over my head- grasping every which way with my bare hands- reaching to the uncatchable, hopelessly missing by mere seconds as they rush by.

I go to bed exhausted- just by trying to make sense of all the noise in my head. It may look like I did nothing to anyone else, but I fought a battle today... One that most won't understand... But I have no choice but to fight my own thoughts- either to understand them, or to go against them- and hold on for dear life.

And then, every now and then, there's a spark. A small ball of light- like a firefly, or a pixie. She takes pity on me, and slows just enough to be seen- or even caught... And I get to see things that many can't; maybe just a glimmer of hope, maybe it's validation... But this time, it's an idea- one that holds a crystal ball- one that will drive me to a successful future.

Now it is up to me. Time and time before, I've seen the fairy with the crystal ball, but it is taken from me time and time again. Either the screaming gets too loud and drowns out the drive... Or another fairy entices me with another idea, and I forget the first. I am easily excited- and the noise in my head tends to control what happens next.

Can I do it this time? Can I hold to a dream? Can I follow through with the promise of a brighter tomorrow? One that says I'm in control of my future and not so much the noise in my brain?

It might have to be both... But I've got to at least try.

Watch out- I'm moving in

Moving can be a lot of things: exciting as we start a new chapter in our lives, yet tiring as we pack and move boxes from one place to another.

The thing I've noticed that moving can do to me is completely debilitate me. I'll be fine and then out of nowhere, I can't think straight; I can't think at all... And I can't move. I just stand there- frozen- staring at everything that needs to be done; yet not able to do any of it. I see everything at once rather than being able to break it down into smaller doable chores.

I've always had difficulty prioritizing. Instead of putting things from most to least importance (vertically), I put an equal amount of importance on everything (horizontally). Not on purpose... But it all needs to get done, so that's what I see: all of it... At once... Taunting me.

At least this time, I've been able to find some useful tools in the process: taking breaks, and organizing room by room.

I know. Kind of obvious, right?

Don't judge. This is huge for me.

In the past, what I did for my "breaks" was merely changing projects- do a little here, a little there. But I didn't see the progress that way. I still saw everything as one giant "to do list"- and giving up way too soon because I was too overwhelmed.

So, I've learned to pace myself a little. This time, I've been a little more realistic on what I might get done in a day... And on those days I do have a ton that needs doing- I take a break: a complete change of focus that can restore my sense of routine instead of chaos. Sometimes, I stop packing (or unpacking), and just play with my kids- or cuddle with them. It's soothing.

This time, you are my break. Instead of lifting and moving, I sit still, completely change my mental focus, and talk to you. This allows my brain to breath and reorganize in order to face more work.  Thanks for being there.

Speaking of organizing, that's another thing I've tried to focus on to get me through this process. We're moving to a smaller house (with my parents). So, I'm having to be creative while we figure out some good storage solutions for all our stuff... (Besides just getting rid of things- which we will have to do, too).

I think I saw these two ideas on Pinterest a while ago, but I don't know for sure:

First is finding shelves to help stack things so they're more easily accessible. Also, I got a bunch of baskets to help me separate things into various categories and get them out without having to dig.

Next is using an over the door plastic shoe holder to organize all of our medicines. I'm pretty proud of this one. I got the clear one so I could see exactly what's in each pouch. Finding the right medicines was a saga in our last living situation. Word to the wise- just because you have space doesn't mean you're living "smart".





Getting organized outside my head helps me feel a little more organized inside my head. I only hope we can get back to a routine quickly so I can feel a bit less foggy...

Scatter-brained

We're moving this week; so my posts this week will be short and unplanned. But, I wanted to be real and guest with you-- and real honest with you... So here it goes.

I'm experiencing some serious scatter-braining the last few days. I think since we're experiencing another big change (with another pending till Jake finds another job), my brain is trying to organize too many things in my head. I'm kind of obsessing (feeling like it's necessary) about my new career choice. My head jumps from one question to the next- not giving me enough time to resolve any single concern.

Then, there's the emotional reaction to my anxious brain. I feel panicked. I feel desperate to have an answer- any answer to our up-side-down lives... But no answer comes. Yesterday, as I was trying to resolve things in my head, I had a small anxiety attack- my breathing got really fast, and extremely shallow. My brain started going so fast, it was impossible for even me to understand its needs. Tears welled up and I started crying. I tried pinpointing what it was that made me cry... But it was like grasping at straws. 

Then, I tried going to bed at a decent time. I slept all night (and kept the cpap on all night- good for me. This usually means I have more energy the following day. But that was not the case this time.); I've been so tired today, I had to have a nap at 8:30 in the morning.

So, I guess I'm unsure if I'm experiencing anxiety, or hypomania with mixed episodes. Maybe both? I'm just trying to take it easy today to give my brain a rest... Though that doesn't feel like it's working. So, I thought journal writing- which is what this is- might help me sort things through... Not sure this is working, either. Maybe another nap- and Hurray! I get to see my therapist this evening. I look forward to her analysis and any homework she thinks might help. (My honest opinion- EVERYONE would benefit from going to therapy.)

Seasons of Change

My life is in flux. Everything around me is changing- and I find that I am participating in that change.

For 6 months, I was the primary care-giver for my mother-in-law who has Alzheimer's. We were living in her home, and had to adjust to her level of comfort. She was angry or suicidal a lot of the time. She hated taking the pills her doctor prescribed- and would frequently take her frustrations out on me. She would tell me I was a horrible mother, and try to give me parenting advice. When I tried to give her hope or comfort her when sad, she would tell me to "shut up, because it makes me throw up". Was it always this bad? No. But it made life hard. A sharp word always seems to linger longer than a kind one. AND it wasn't her fault- so I couldn't (and don't) blame her. It was the disease talking.  Alzheimer's is a hard thing. It changed me.

We're now moving in with my parents. Learning to live with a new roommate (even if you've been with them before) requires a little adjustment and a lot of patience. This will further change me.

I exercise - it took a while, but I think it's a habit now- a lifestyle change. Though my weight is still fluctuating, I usually feel better when I go to the gym- even if it's just cardio. I'm going to be a healthier me; this includes physical health, but also mental health. It helps me release tension and focus on the present. Next to doing a meditation (which I do every night) exercise (which I do in the morning at least 3 times a week) clears my head and helps me start the day on the right foot.

I'm fixing my sleep. About a year ago, I started waking up during the night in a panic because I couldn't breath. Really. I stopped breathing. I thought it was mania, which can also interrupt my sleep, but I wanted to be sure. So, I did a sleep study and learned that I have sleep apnea; my body wakes up frequently and doesn't ever really get into a good recuperative sleep because it has to stay awake to breath. I got a C-PAP machine. I go through phases where I rip the mask off during the night, so I'm groggy the next day. But, when I keep it on- I notice how much more energy and alertness I have the following day. Fixing my sleep has changed me.

I am more accepting of my body. It's the strangest thing. I only weigh 10 pounds lighter than I did when I hated my body, so it doesn't really show... But it's not so much about what I look like as it is about accepting where I am. I'm a mom- so my body is a mom body- that's nothing to be ashamed of. I'm older- so my metabolism has started slowing down. I'm on medication that makes it difficult for me to lose weight- but this isn't a race, it's a process.

I'm starting down a career path. This isn't just a change because I have ideas for a career- I've done this plenty of times before. This is a change because I've only just started the process, and things are falling into place to make it happen. My husband is on board (he's generally very supportive, but until now, he has always questioned how Bipolar was playing into it). I have found books to help me learn and help prepare me for what is to come. If you know me, you know this is huge for me. I love books... But I have a really hard time focusing on reading- id rather be moving. I've also always said that I don't care for the business side of business- but now I'm trying to soak in as much as possible to make this thing work. I'm building on something that I'm already doing. My girls will be starting preschool in the fall- which will allow me time. I can use those few hours a week to focus on working. It's already giving me a level of confidence I haven't had in a while. This is a change.

For quite a while, I have looked in a mirror and not know the person staring back at me. She had been worn down- without identity. She only survived. She was a stranger to me. Now, I see a new me in the mirror. Because of change in circumstance and surroundings, I have had to live- not just survive. I have had to ... I have realized that to live, you can't wait for the world to give you what you want- you either go out and make it happen, or you change your attitude about your circumstances and surroundings. (Yes- easier said than done. But, I have been the best mom I've ever been while in difficult circumstances. It is possible.) i see a new face in the mirror; and my thought changes from "who are you?" To "there you are!" I know her... And I like her. I am changed.

Mad Hatter Tea Party

I turned 35 this year. I have no problem saying my age. Why should I feel bad about not being in my 20s anymore? It makes no sense to me. I have some wrinkles and my hair is starting to gray (which I'm actually really excited about; gray/silver/white hair is beautiful).

I decided to throw myself a big birthday party. We usually do small family get-togethers to celebrate adult birthdays, but I wanted a big party: I wanted to feel like I had a lot of friends, even though we've been here less than 10 months, and we're moving again next week.

It was during the preparation for this party  that I had my genius idea that I wrote about a few weeks ago. Yup. I threw myself a Mad Hatter Tea Party. Most of the ideas I used for the party were ideas I found on Pinterest. (I love Pinterest. I mean, really love it.) I knew it would be an open house style party- I wanted it to be relaxed, but fun.

First is first: what will it look like? I gathered several tables from family and friends and made a huge long table with different colored table covers topped with lace tablecloths (we ended up using lace curtains... Which I think added to the feel of the whole thing. Then, I printed out some fun Alice in Wonderland pictures and quotes and put them in Dollar Tree frames- sort of matchy, but all different. I found some cute little hand mirrors that I thought would be appropriate since I would watch "Alice Through the Looking Glass" the night before the party. I also picked up some easels to hold a couple giant pocket watches (made by printing large images, gluing them to foam board and crocheting or finger knitting the "chain"). 

The table had lots of mini things to eat on trays (mostly from the Dollar Tree and Walmart), 3 different drinks to choose from: pink lemonade, orange slush, and water bottles in ice. I found these cute tags to use both on the table, and around the table:

Then, the question became: What are we going to do? I didn't want people to get bored... But I'm not the biggest fan of planned "party games"- where everyone is forced to play even if they don't want to. Pinterest, again, came to my rescue- this is what I found:

AND, I remembered that my parents still had a croquet set from my childhood. So, I set that up, and grabbed a bunch of art/craft supplies- and made an entire table devoted to decorating hats. I made the basic hats using plastic cups (I admit the paper ones look more like hats, but I got the plastic ones for cheaper, got a whole lot more for my money- and it came in 4 different colors). I cut circles for the bottom, cut slits to hold the headband (which came from Amazon for super cheap), and glued the cup to the paper. They were a huge hit!

And as far as the photo props were concerned, I decided not to do them. We weren't sure if the weather would even let us be outside, and if that was the case, we wouldn't have room for the photo booth- and I was already starting to stress about having everything ready (and perfect) in time. But when a friend heard about the idea, she ran out and bought a foam board so I would at least make a frame. It didn't take too long. In addition, my mom loaned me a giant caterpillar, and I had way too many giant pocket watches to just put on the table. So, I printed an image of the Cheshire Cat, and put these all in a tree.

Not only was the day clear and sunny (until the second we finished clean-up), but some of my absolute favorite people came! It all turned out great. There were times I wondered if anyone would even come... I doubt myself like that... In the end, though, I was pretty spoiled.

My Heart--The Arts

Good art reflects the individual- not just the creator, but the observer. It allows each individual to bring their life; their struggles, their viewpoints, their existential questions- and find themselves clarified and validated within the art. One example I can think of is when the movie "Frozen" came out. In Elsa, I saw someone who struggled with a mental illness- like me. Her words reflected just how I felt about being/having Bipolar. I wrote a blog about it here.

Last night, my husband and I watched The Tony Awards. Though I always forget to plan for said event, I always enjoy watching. I love the special appearances; I love the dresses- the colors, style, uniqueness; I love the gratitude and the stories that have people their strength and inspiration; but mostly, I love the performances. 

I know I was never a professional performer, but Jake and I have had our share of performance experience. We both grew up doing community theatre and were involved in high school productions. I was always drawn to musicals. I was good at the dancing part, definitely teachable in the acting part (I want to say I was better than okay, but that's my own opinion). I got an Associates degree in Musical Theatre, and a Bachelor's in Dance (which included both the practical and theory aspects of stage performance). I was a model for a while (One of my favorite gigs was portraying Barbie for a Toys 'R Us event unveiling of the Nutcracker Barbie), and was in several commercials. I took a professional course in film acting- which really helped me understand the differences and similarities between the stage and the screen. No matter how hard I tried, though, I could never get past my "chorus voice". I can keep a tune- I can even harmonize pretty well, but I lack the individualized power voice you need to really have a future in the business.

I sometimes wonder what would've happened if I had given more attention to developing my voice, but I have no regrets. I had a lot of fun at the time. And In any case, that's not where I landed. What all this experience did give me was, I think, a better appreciation for the talent, mental/emotional/and physical discipline, and raw hard work it takes to put on a really good show.

The Tony Awards is a show that culminates the best of the best in this discipline. To make it here, you have to be a triple threat, or in Steve Martin's words: "already famous". Jake and I found ourselves in tears throughout the show just by the mere greatness of it.

I probably already knew this about myself, but something about the Tony's brought it to the forefront of my attention. I think it was while watching "Hamilton"- a quick and rap opera about the founding fathers of our country- can't wait to see the whole show someday- that I recognized something about my personality. I learn way more by watching people's movement: from the grandiosity of the choreography and stage movement to the simplicity and subtlety of a hand gesture or facial expression; AND by musical cadence; than by the words- especially if the words are fast and complex. I'll tell you, there was a reason that Hamilton was up for 16 Tony awards- and I haven't even seen the show!!!

This is probably due to my background. I've been dancing since I was 3, piano lessons since I was 7 or 8, and was a part of several band and orchestra groups throughout junior high and high school- learning both the flute and the French horn. Music and movement are so deeply rooted in me that those are the things I notice first- and when it comes to a performance as high quality as those participating in the Tony's, my breath is taken away by them, and I forget to pay attention to the words- not through any fault of theirs... Only mine.

All that to say, I give my congratulations to all nominees and performers of the Tony Awards. It was well deserved for all of you. I especially thank "Hamilton" for presenting a mirror through which I can more fully understand and appreciate myself. And for your passion, which allowed me to remember a dream and embrace new ambitions.

Stress Eating

To manage well a mental illness, one must be very attentive to overall health; mental health and emotional health are vital, but so is physical health. Caring for my body includes ALL of my body, not just my head. Each part connects to the other, therefore affecting every aspect that makes up me.

I've been working very hard this past year to gain a greater physical health. Though "losing weight" has never been top priority, it has always been a hope that taking care of my physical health would result in fewer pounds. After so much work (and with the aid of a weight loss pill- as much as I hate to admit it), I finally dropped 15 pounds- and since being pregnant with my girls, got my weight below 200.

Unfortunately, the pill had to stop (after a certain time, the body gets used to the energy and suppressed appetite to the point that it no longer works). As a result, my eating returned to previous bad habits.

What do I call it? Stress eating? Yes. Comfort eating? Yes. I often have a need to feel productive- always doing something with my hands. If I'm not otherwise occupied, I grab some food- usually something sweet.

Whatever the reason, I return to the feelings of helplessness. I have again gained weight to 200 pounds. I know my eating habits and nutrition need to change- a lifestyle change, not a diet. But a lifestyle change takes longer to adjust for than my patience seems able to handle. I am at an impass.

PTSD

I was at the gym, trying to check in and get my kids situated with kidcare, and a conversation strikes between me and another mom- who we'll call Rose. We talk about our kids and how they adjust (or don't adjust) to babysitters and day cares. She asks me how young my girls were when I started taking them to the gym. Specifically- how they did when they were 6 months.

At first, I gave her the simple answer- "I had emotional issues and was not well enough to come to the gym". I don't remember if I volunteered further information, or if she asked... Either way, the conversation continued. I told her about Bipolar, and how that made me more prone to having Post Partum depression, how I had started planning my suicide, and how my husband and I decided to commit me to UNI (The University of Utah Neuropsychiatric Institute), to help me get better.

I really don't have a problem talking about this kind of thing. Rose sympathized with me, explaining that her sister was also hospitalized for Post Partum Depression and a suicide attempt. She then further described her sister's experience. Even though it's been 6 plus years, her sister experiences PTSD because of it.

We most often associate PTSD with soldiers who have seen death, or had a near death experience. Though this does happen often, PTSD is not restricted to a soldier's experience only. Rose's sister experiences PTSD when she is reminded of her suicide attempt.

My husband also struggles with PTSD because of his cancer experience. At one point during his treatment, he found that he was having symptoms similar to that of the flu or bronchitis. We took him to the doctor, who told him to go to the ER. (We were used to ER trips by this point- we had been several times before- you have to be extra careful with any symptom a cancer patient might have.) He was admitted to the hospital for pneumonia. It ended up being a bad reaction to one of the chemo drugs. It took them a week to figure that out- while he stayed in the hospital.

One particular evening, Jake called me saying he was having a hard time breathing and added he was "afraid to die, and (he) didn't want to die alone." I called my sister to come stay with my son so I could be with Jake. While I was on my way, Jake called the nurses in for help. He couldn't breath. They checked his oxygen levels, which were way below normal. Anything below 90 is concerning- Jake's was 71. He said it felt like the movies: nurses rushing left and right- going as fast as possible to hook him up to oxygen and keep him conscious.

PTSD has followed Jake ever since. He feels extremely high levels of anxiety, sick to his stomach (and otherwise ill) and has to stop whatever he's doing (including pulling the car over if he's driving), just so he can focus on breathing. That day at the hospital was the same day that Micheal Jackson died- every channel at the hospital was tuned in to his life's work. To this day, Jake can't listen to a Micheal Jackson song without feeling the anxiety and flashbacks build.

For the longest time, I didn't realize that anyone other than a soldier could experience PTSD... That is, until Jake was diagnosed. Pretty much anyone who has a psychologically traumatic experience may also have PTSD.

Having PTSD is nothing to feel ashamed about. Get help. Surround yourself with support and love. The effects of PTSD are hard- and real. Know you are not alone.

Anxiety

I've been feeling very weird lately. It's almost like a mixed episode in that I have excess energy, but feeling negative. My stomach is churning and my head is swimming. I feel the constant physical need to sleep, but when given the chance, my sleep is very light- I can't get comfortable and my brain won't shut up! In fact, my brain and thoughts are going so fast and are so disorganized that I can't really think. I'm not able to slow down despite my efforts doing meditations, deep breathing exercises, etc. Might this be what torture feels like?

Our lives have been in constant flux for a while now. I've been thinking/hoping that we'd have a solution by now, but we were just told the opposite. We are losing stability and control, despite our best efforts- and I'm at a loss.

I do my charting every night like a good girl. I keep track of my medications (which I take faithfully every day), my mood swings within a day, when I go to therapy, my menstrual cycle, my irritability levels- and something that I've never really noticed until recently: anxiety. My levels of anxiety have been crawling upward.

But- Knowledge is empowering; my husband and I are starting to understand how anxiety can play a role in my bipolar state of being. It's never really been an issue before, but our lives are so up in the air lately that I think it has finally made its way into my disorder. As we have read today, it's possible for anxiety to replace depression in a mixed episode. So I'm having symptoms of hypomania and symptoms of anxiety. I really don't like this feeling... This racing of my brain that's so disorganized and unfocused I feel like throwing up because there are no answers. At least with hypomania, I have a grasp on (and find answers to) my racing thoughts. But I guess it's another facet of Bipolar that I get to learn about. Gee- lucky me.