Tag: writing

Allergies and Other Boring Things

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

Allergies and other boring things

Since I woke up this morning, I have been sneezing my head off. No matter where I go in the house, I sneeze. My eyes have been watering like a hose has been turned on. I just put antihistamine eye drops in and they feel a little bit better. I also have been taking diphenhydramine all day. It’s been helping a little bit. Least the runny nose has stopped. I feel okay despite all this so I don’t think I am coming down with a cold.

The house is hotter than hell. I don’t know how my mother can stand it. I am worried about her because the last time it was this hot her sugar dropped. I am keeping an ear out but it’s kind of difficult with the AC running.

I haven’t heard back from my psychiatrist so I guess what I wrote was acceptable. I was nervous I was going to get a phone call after I sent it but I didn’t. I hope she liked the blog I sent her. I haven’t responded to my friend about the email she sent. I really don’t know what to say to her. Sometimes I don’t respond because there isn’t anything that needs responding to. I do give her encouragement when it is needed. I just wish I could write my book like she is writing hers. So far my book is about my psychotic episodes and how I deal with it with my medication. My first story is about darkness. I need to edit it some more because there isn’t some things that I like in it. But it’s hard to delete stuff when you are looking for a high word count.

Some of the stuff in my book, I posted on my blog. I was hoping to try it out on my readers to see if they liked it or not. Unfortunately, I don’t have many readers every day so I don’t get responses like I used to. This is mostly wordpress readers not internet. I think I get more internet traffic than WP, which is okay. As long as my blog gets read, I really don’t care who is reading it. I had a reader from Guam but haven’t seen him/her in a while.

My first book hasn’t sold too well. It went for around 100 copies, not including the books I sent out to potential reviewers that still hasn’t returned one review. I am upset about that. I think they were just interested in a free signed book.

So while I am trying to think of stories to write, I have been reading like crazy, well as crazy as the depression and psychosis will take me. For a while, I didn’t do any reading because my depression was so bad and my father was so ill. I remember reading a blog the other night that detailed how angry I was that he wasn’t taking care of himself. I gave him a year to live, less than that if he didn’t do what his doctors were telling him. He died a few months later. I still can’t believe how quickly he deteriorated. Less than twenty days in the nursing home. We did bring him home because that was his last request before he became non communicative. He just became a shell of a man. It was heartbreaking to see, even though I had a lot of resentment towards him. Anger as well. Actually, a whole lot of negative feelings toward him, even in his last hour. I had taken a picture of him while he was lying in the casket. He looked like he had a smirk on his face. That is how I wish to remember him rather than how he looked on his death bed. He died peacefully, in his bed, not at the nursing home. It took some doing because otherwise we would be paying a huge ambulance bill. I am grateful the nursing home doctor wrote that it was medically necessary for transport. I won’t forget that.

I hope I don’t have to see my mother die that way, frail and thin, almost skin and bone. She has gained weight over the years, which hasn’t helped her health much. But as long as she is eating and drinking, I know she is okay. My biggest fear is that she will get cancer of some sort because she was a heavy smoker. Thankfully, her chest CT was clear during her last admission.

Because I took Benedryl tonight, I skipped my Ativan dose. I also took some magnesium supplements for the spasms that I had in my back today. Every time I stood for longer than 5 minutes, I became hunched over and my seized up. It was awful. I helped my mother empty the dishwasher and it took me longer because I had to keep sitting down to ease the spasms. I haven’t done anything in two days so I have no idea why my back hurts. I hope it’s not because of the humidity because summer just started and I don’t want to be house bound. I have to go out tomorrow for my appointment or I will be charged a $75 no show fee.

My Sox are winning tonight. I checked the score on my phone and when I went back to the internet, it said my phone had a virus on it. So weird because I didn’t have the thing open while I was using it. I just closed the browser and opened a new one. Pissed me off though because I just had a system update that was supposed to fix the “security” of the phone. Yeah, right. And my last name is sucker.

psychosis, therapy, and other things

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

I had therapy today as usual. We talked more about the psychosis and how I have been dealing with it, or not really. I told her I thought I would email my psychiatrist today to inform her of an agenda for when we meet on Friday. I want to tell her that I think we need to get the psychosis under control. I sent her yesterday’s blog in the email so she has a better idea of what I am talking about.

We talked a little about my father. I told her I have been reading blogs about his treatment towards me and other stuff but I was very vague and don’t remember the incident I was describing. I had to look at the date I wrote it to know what I was talking about. He was a difficult man. Hard to believe it will be three months that he has been gone. I still haven’t cried much for him, if at all.

Then I get an email from writing friend today that thinks my psychosis is caused by the grief of my father. She doesn’t know what happened this weekend so I am dismissing most of what she was talking about. Plus she kept calling my father “dad” which just annoyed me. He isn’t a “dad” in any sense of the word. The guy only thought about himself. It was only in the last year that he started giving us money on the fly but even then we had to pay him back. I never wanted his money for this reason. There was always a catch to it.

In the email I sent to my pdoc, I also told her what I wanted to talk about that didn’t involve the hospital. I told her about what happened with my mother. She is stable for now but that can change in a week or two. Hell, it can change today or tomorrow. You just don’t know with diabetes, even if you constantly monitor your levels.

Today I am less psychotic because I took my meds yesterday. I spaced it out so I did take 8 mg of trilafon. Today I plan on doing the same. It seems to be working. I am not as paranoid or agitated. The AC isn’t speaking to me. I haven’t played music so I am not sure the lyrics have changed on me. Last night, I was listening to Bon Jovi. There were songs I had to skip because I didn’t care for them. Then the Sox game got hot last night so I listened for a while. The voices wanted me to read but there was no way I could listen to the game and read so I turned the game off. I was reading Patrick J. Kennedy’s book, A Common Struggle. I didn’t there would be similarities between us but there were, as far as our illnesses go in managing it on a daily basis. I don’t have the addiction issues he has but I know what it’s like trying to manage being bipolar and psychosis. Then I read the part of losing his dad just before my therapist called me.

I asked my therapist if she reads and she laughed, thinking I was calling her illiterate. She usually doesn’t read fun books, just professional stuff. I told her about A Common Struggle and how I was interested in it. I didn’t tell her the reason I had an interest in the primary author (PJK) but did tell her the background of the book. He pushed for mental health and addiction parity while in Congress, all while battling his addiction to drugs and alcohol and bipolar disorder. I really don’t know how he didn’t accidently kill himself but I think he was on that road had he not had treatment at the various places he went to. He was never really suicidal until his girlfriend said things were over between them. It was the first time he had such thoughts.

Anyways, we talked about the book in therapy and how it stirred up feelings about my father. Last night he was on my mind. I think he is always going to be on my mind even though he is gone. I am just glad I am not hearing his voice while being psychotic because that would be very dangerous.

I didn’t go out today, again. It’s too hot out and I am fearful it might spike another psychotic episode if I go. I don’t really want to be around people. Tomorrow I have to go out because I have an appointment with my neurologist. I haven’t seen her in two years, and not much has changed. I still have pain that is unexplained. The reason I made the appointment was because I was having nerve pain, but that seems to have resolved. I think all the standing I was doing the month of April and dealing with the impending death of my father just caused a flare up. Now that I am back to my regular routine, or rather no routine, things have calmed down.

I am missing my cold brewed iced coffee from Starbucks. I will have it on Friday when I see my psych. Feels like ages since I last saw her and it’s only been three weeks.

Disconnect

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

Disconnect

I had therapy today and gave my therapist an update on the activities of the weekend. It didn’t help that I was feeling paranoid and the AC was talking to me. I had taken a trilafon before she called but it hadn’t worked yet. Now my MP3 player is being commanding. I feel like I am losing it. I was telling my therapist about how the voices were acting up in November of last year so obviously, the abilify was losing it’s effectiveness then. I think it was holding me from becoming full blown psychotic like I am now. It has been going on for months now. I don’t usually pay attention because I always hear voices. I have two that are prominent. It’s usually when objects talk or the lyrics of songs change that things get worse for me. She thinks the stress of this weekend might have caused me to go overboard.

I also told her of the dream I had about my psychiatrist that I had this morning. In the dream, I was asking to take 8 mg of trilafon and she said she didn’t know me well enough to make that decision. I woke up from the dream like, WTF. I have known my psychiatrist for the past 20 years. If she doesn’t know me by now, she never will. But it was just a dream. I am debating calling her today but I am afraid she will tell me to go to the hospital. But I can’t because my mother’s health is so precarious right now. She can’t be left alone anymore.

I don’t know if going back to the abilify is going to help me or not. Even while I was taking the abilify things were bad. I might have to try something new but I am not sure what is out there that I can try. Most of the newer antipsychotics have risks of diabetes and I am at a higher risk because of my mother. This is why I don’t take olanzapine. I loved that drug. It worked well with the voices and paranoia. Unfortunately, my psychiatrist didn’t like it because it was shown to have a higher risk of diabetes than other antipsychotics so took me off it. I was very sad. I am at a medium dose of abilify so I have some room to increase it. I don’t know if my psych wants to do this. I meet with her on Friday and will bring it up to her. That is if I am not fearful. Last time I was paranoid of her. It was not a good visit.

I was telling my therapist that even though I am writing, I feel disconnected from it. I think with the psychosis being so bad, I just don’t feel emotions like I used to. Things are either one extreme or the other or not at all. I feel numb most of the time. I don’t know why this is. There just is this disconnect. Even while things were going on with my mother, I didn’t feel much of anything. I knew what to do and stuff but I really wasn’t at all concerned about my mother that much. I didn’t feel high off adrenaline or anything. I just did what needed to be done. I knew she was in good hands but at the same time, it felt like I was feeling nothing at all. I know the voices were extremely loud as they wanted to know what was going on. But it wasn’t like I could talk with them with a crowd full of emergency personnel. I would have been taken away.

Today is really muggy and the next two days are going to be worse. I have the AC off right now because it was talking to me but my room is starting to get warm again. I am still feeling paranoid despite being alone in my room. The only other person home is my mother. But the voices are really loud today. While I was reading, the reading voice was so loud I could barely understand what I was reading. Probably why I was dreaming of taking 8 mg of trilafon. I should be able to take another dose in an hour or two. I really am tempted to take at least a 5 mg dose of abilify to see if does anything. Probably won’t because I am so out of whack.

My writing friend has come back into my inbox. She needs someone to be accountable to and so emails me after she has written a page or two. I haven’t responded yet because I am not sure what to say. I am not thinking too clearly at the moment to say anything back.

I made some progress with the Harry Potter book that I am reading. I now have 15 chapters to go. If I read at least 2 chapters a day for the next week, I should finish it. It has been on my reading list since February.

Sunday Blog 14

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

Sunday Blog 14

I didn’t do a hell of a lot today but I made breakfast. I made oatmeal pancakes with buttermilk. It was good but the pancakes fell apart easily. It was messy. I then cleaned up after myself because my mother was still in the hospital. I called her and she didn’t think she would be coming home today but she did. While I was waiting for her to come home, I watched the baseball game. It was pissing me off because every time they had a runner on first base, they kept trying to pick them off. I hate when they do this because I want to see the batter pitched to not the throw to first! It made it a long game.

When my mother came home, the Sox finally scored some runs. Seven in one inning. I was happy because they were toast yesterday afternoon. It was ridiculous. They lost 21-7. I stopped watching when the game was 13-1. Today they won 10-5. I am glad they took the series and played better ball than yesterday.

I made supper for my mother and myself. My mother is all black and blue from the fall she took the other night and from all the poking from the needles and stuff. There were only two pans left for my mother to wash. My ankle started acting up because I was standing most of the time I was cooking.

I finally read a couple chapters in Harry Potter this morning. I am making slow progress. I will read some more before bed. I really need to take a shower but I need my ankle to settle down some first. I just took a pain pill, my second of the day. Even though I have been home alone most of the day, I have been going up and down the stairs a bit. I had to take the trash and recycling out. Then my niece needed some clothing so I had to go to the first floor to get it for her. My mother needed more ice so we took some from my sister’s freezer as she has an ice maker. Then I went up to my room a few times to play on my laptop before my mother wanted cooking done. It has worn me out.

I did make coffee this morning. I made it a little bit stronger than I usually make it because I didn’t put enough water in the French press like I usually do. It was still good. I was hoping to go poop but that hasn’t happened yet and it’s been a couple of days. I am going to be hurting when I do go. I am not looking forward to it. I had some baked beans tonight with dinner so I am hoping that moves things along.

My cousin called me this morning. She wants me to come visit her to have a pool party. I forgot she has a pool. I really don’t feel like talking to her today so I will call tomorrow. I am just wiped out from doing “normal” activities. Being on my feet didn’t help. But it’s not like you can cook sitting down.

Last night I was reading some old blogs. Seems my depression started sometime in September and just got worse in January through April. I also talked about the voices so they have been active for quite some time, even while on the abilify. I am glad I have this blog to monitor my symptoms because I don’t always remember what I write or when the beginning of something is. I had a few flashbacks this weekend of my father’s death and of his downfall. I was reading some of my posts back in March of this year. I mostly talked about him being mean to me, which he always was. He thought he was being funny. I guess the recurrence of the cancer and him not responding to the radiation treatments caused him to deteriorate. I just can’t believe it happened so quickly.

I think I am able to write the story now without it being traumatic for me. Most of the PTSD symptoms have calmed down. I know I was just triggered by going to the floor that my father was in and walking by the room. He spent almost 10 days on that floor where my mother was.

If I really want to make a dent in the books that I bought the last few months, I really need to get reading. My pile keeps getting higher and higher instead of smaller. I keep looking at the pile and it’s starting to overwhelm me. I had started an Excel sheet of the books that I read and how long it took me to read it. It’s mostly a spreadsheet of when I started a book and when I finished it. Since my father’s death, I have only finished two books. I have a challenge going on in GoodReads.com and my goal is to read 40 books in a year. I am not even at the 10 book mark and it’s July. I have the time to read; it’s just that sometimes I just don’t have the concentration because of my illness. I don’t carry a book to Starbucks anymore because I never read there. I just write in my journal. I don’t even write in general anymore while I am there. If I have a plan, which is rare, I usually carry it out. But lately, I just want my iced coffee, write in my journal for an hour, and then go home. I haven’t brought the psychology book that I bought a few months ago to Starbucks in weeks. Maybe I will try that this week.