Tag: mental illness

A Beautiful Mind

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, chronic physical pain, depression, mood disorders

A Beautiful Mind

I watched this movie tonight because one of the actors also played in Stargate SG1. It has been a while since I last saw it and it is such a good movie. I could relate a lot to what the main character was going through because I have had to deal with delusions and medications and hospitalizations. I knew when I was 16 that I would have to be on medication for the rest of my life. It’s not always easy to take them and I have stopped them for a while only to be back on them.

Ten years ago I was in a horrible, deep, severe depression. I had stopped my meds which only made things worse. My psychiatrist asked me to do her a “favor” and it was to go back on my meds. Within a few weeks, I was feeling remarkably different. I wasn’t 100% better, but I felt like I could face the world again. I knew then that I couldn’t stop my meds ever again and I have been taking them consistently, for the most part. There have been nights where I don’t take them but they are far and in between.

I am glad that the increase in the sertraline has helped my mood and physical symptoms of depression. My appetite, I think, is back to normal. I will be placing an order for groceries next week. I ordered burgers and avocados. I am planning on making my favorite burger from my favorite burger joint. The only thing missing is the onion rings, but I can make do without. I am actually looking forward to making something to eat where before it was a chore and I had absolutely no interest at all. I should have gone up on the sertraline sooner but I like being cautious. I really didn’t want to get sick off the meds so I did the increase slowly. I just hope that I can stay at the dose for a while and it doesn’t make me sick.

I see my psychiatrist on Monday. I hope that I don’t stress her out because I need two prescriptions, one of which I need a hard copy because it is a controlled substance. I am not sure she has figure out how to print off scripts with the new system. I am hoping she has. I don’t know why they had to change systems across Partners institutions. No one likes this new system, but they are stuck with it, unfortunately.

I am fighting sleep. I really want Morpheus to knock me out and come take me away but he is missing. I wasn’t planning on staying up this late but I just can’t seem to relax enough to lie down. I read what I wrote in my last blog as someone left a comment that has me perplexed. I approved it because it wasn’t bad or anything of the sort. But after I read my blog, I understood the comment a little better. I didn’t realize my last paragraph had such a powerful ending. It started the movie playing again, and I don’t mean “A Beautiful Mind”. I just really can’t stop thinking about my father’s death sometimes and once it’s on my brain, I can’t get it out. I have tried distraction but that hasn’t been working too well for me lately. Music has helped. But it’s late and I don’t want to activate my brain with lyrics. I really need some classical music or something soothing to listen to that doesn’t have words that I can analyze to death. I know I should write down the “movie” in my notepad so I can finish it but not at this hour. I am too tired to get triggered by memories of that day. I know it’s there anyways but I don’t want to revisit it right now.

I bought a shirt a month ago and I just recently received it. It was in support of Michael Dorn, the actor that played Worf in the Next Gen series of Star Trek. I thought I ordered an XL. I got a 4XL that is swimming on me. I had no idea it was so huge. I like it though because it is very comfortable. Maybe it will shrink if I wash it a few times.

Well, I think the pain meds have finally kicked in from more than an hour ago. Morpheus, if you’re out there, please come find me!

having a bad day

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mood disorders

Been having a bad day full of PTSD symptoms. I keep thinking about the last two hours of my father’s life and how much I miss him. He has been on my mind all day. I so want to call him to check in on him but he is no longer here or there. It’s been difficult to process. I have been trying to write about it but it only starts the movie playing in my head again. It starts with the ambulance ride and ends with his death. Then it starts all over again.

I have been trying not to think about it, to distract, to do some grounding but nothing has been helping today. Even though I am on a psych unit, I feel completely helpless. I took a PRN to calm down as it was giving me anxiety. I haven’t slept and should take a nap but I fear that I will be sleepy by 2100 and then I will wake up again at 0400 or earlier.

I told them my plan that has been cooking in my brain. I am still being discharged tomorrow. I don’t know why I told them. My psychiatrist here is very nice and easy going. It was not that hard to get the plan out of my head with him. I am so tired of fighting the demons. I want to give in. But I think of my family and the loss they just went through and I can’t allow them to go through my loss. It is one thing that keeps me going.

My outside psychiatrist finally emailed me with an appointment. I see her on Monday. I am glad because I was getting worried that I wasn’t going to be able to see her for a while. I see my therapist on Wednesday. I wanted to see her so I kind of planned my own discharge. I am not any “better” but I am more stable than what I have been. I know that I can

random thoughts on hospitalization

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, depression, mood disorders

Random thoughts on hospitalization

I have been doing a lot of thinking the past couple of hours. I don’t know if I will end up in the hospital that I want and might end up at a hospital I was at 15 years ago, before I was diagnosed with cauda equina syndrome. The hospital there was a good place. I got the help that I needed. But I wasn’t taking narcotic pain medication at the time. I hope that they will allow me to take my pain meds.

I also hope they will allow me to take my own OCP. Without these pills I will be screwed and I will have my menses messed up. Most places will allow it and I brought an unused pack with me. I have to remember to bring my charger and my journal because the journal has my medication list in it.

I wrote my mother a little note saying where I was and not to call me because I might not have access to my cell phone while in the ER or on the unit. If I am at the unit I was before, it won’t be a problem. But if I am at the other hospital, I don’t know what their policy is as I haven’t been there in 15 years.

I am very tired. But it’s still kind of “early”. I am afraid that if I go to sleep now, I will wake up before my alarm. I am also hungry but I don’t know what to eat. I probably will just fall asleep anyways so I don’t need food.

I want to email my psychiatrist about going in the hospital ED and whether I will have access to my cell phone or not. I will find out soon enough. This is so hard. I know it needs to be done but the anxiety surrounding it is tremendous. I got to remember to wear my slip on boots and not my sneakers because I don’t want them to remove the shoelaces. I hope they allow me to have my headphones. It will suck not being able to listen to music.

How Can I Help You to Say Goodbye

by Midnight Demon, posted in Bipolar Disorder, blogging, depression, mood disorders

How Can I Help You Say Goodbye

I have been staring at a legal pad, wanting to write, for the past hour. I have several things to write about or thoughts to jot down but nothing seems to come to me once I grab hold of the pen. The last several hours have been difficult. I have gone from being in a good mood, to being in a mixed state, to feeling psychache, to feeling really sad and depressed. I am stuck in the depressed phase right now.

The movies of my father’s last hours keep floating around. Then I have the memories of the doctor appointments, hospital visits, visits to his home the last few months. How quickly he declined. There was no warning saying he was going to die when he did. In April, the prognosis of death was definite but we didn’t know when. They gave us a few weeks to a few months. It really wasn’t until two weeks ago that they really told us a week or less. And it was less. I got the phone call on April 19th his kidneys were shutting down and by the 25th, he was gone. Nothing more could be done for him, I got to keep telling myself that. He wouldn’t have wanted heroic measures, such as a feeding tube, to prolong his life. He lived a long life.

I don’t know why this is affecting me. I didn’t think I would have a reaction to his death. That may sound callous but he wasn’t the loving and dearest man on the planet. Up until he got really sick, I despised the man. I couldn’t stand being around him. And the night in the ER where I spent 12 hours with him, just for him to go against medical advice really pissed me off. And there was no point in arguing with him once his mind was made up. I remember wanting to write about the narcissism. But I couldn’t because everything that I read about it just pointed to him.

His being gone is making me sad and I have no explanation for it. I certainly didn’t prepare for it. But who really prepares for the death of a parent, whether they were good or bad? I think the good ones do their best to try and ease their children’s pain. There is a song that is by Laura Branigan about how a mother tries to ease her child’s pain through life’s disappointments and departures. The song is called, “How can I help you say goodbye”. My father never helped. He just made fun of you or smacked you when you had child’s disappointment and sadness. He would give you something to cry about.

I once had him on a pedestal. I think all children idolize their parents no matter how bad they are treated. That pedestal came crashing down the night he threatened to take someone’s life. My world was crushed. I no longer wanted to live in this world after that. It was way too painful. And when my father was told I wanted to kill myself, he kindly told me to jump off a bridge. Emotionally, I had to cut myself off from him. It didn’t happen overnight. But I became numb to his behavior towards me. He used to pick on me the worst of my sisters. He made fun of my weight, what I ate, how much I ate and the like. It’s amazing that I don’t have an eating disorder because of him. I just didn’t care. Psychologically, I know that it was the attention, no matter how negative it was, I was looking for. At least he was paying attention to me in his warped way.

He died surrounded by the only family he didn’t piss off, his daughters. Though there was a point where he thought my youngest sister and I were out to kill him. We should have known then that he was off or that his liver disease was getting worse. Yet no one thought to run an ammonia level on him. Hindsight is 20/20. Maybe if we had controlled this blood level, we could have prolonged his life a little more, to give us time to deal with his death a little better. I don’t know. I really thought he would live another year, tops. I had no clue he would have this downfall. And he was a pain in the ass until his mind was gone.

The grief is hard to process, there is no denying this. For those that read this blog daily, I need to write about this. I spent 40 years dealing with a narcissistic parent that spent more money on himself than for his kids. People have told me he loved us. I know that he was proud of us because he would show us off like we were his trophies. He carried a newspaper article that was written about me when I was in the eighth grade for years in his wallet. In addition to a picture of himself when he was 20, he also carried a wallet size pic of the three of us when we were younger. I think I was no more than eight in the picture. He would show it off when the three of us were at his doctor’s appointment.

I don’t know many people that carry pictures of themselves in their wallet. They might have pictures of themselves on their phones, but not their wallet or purse.