I have never been a small girl. Other than when I was a baby. I had always managed to stay under 180 through out school...when i graduate and started college i gained the typical 10-15 pounds. When my doctor put me on my first anti-psychotic meds...i gained a whopping 35 pounds in ONE month. I had never in all my life felt as disgusting, fat, and uncomfortable as i did at that point. I have always had a low self esteem,but that topped the highest notch. I then weighed 230 pounds. Even people that were around me everyday noticed the difference and would ask if I was okay. I was steadily gaining a pound or more a day, not even changing my eating habits. I was lost and my psychiatrist didn't care. It wasn't until i literally threw a tantrum in his office before he would change my meds. Sure enough i lost 10 of the 35 i gained, almost immediately after changing meds. Still i remained at 225+ pounds. I gained not only weight but stretch marks! I never had an issue with stretch marks until that happened. Now I am covered in them. I hate my body so much more than i ever have before. Lotions, vitamins, and now diet...I am slowly losing the weight, down to 216, but the stretch marks just take any glory i feel from the weight loss. I will go to the bathroom to take a shower look at myself and want to just break down and cry, and sometimes I do. I won't even let my husband watch me change clothes, I cant stand the sight of myself, and I don't want any thought rolling around in his head that might be judgmental of me. I guess my point is not only do i feel like my insides are disgusting and flawed, but my outward appearance as well. I feel absolutely repulsive all around. It is almost like I have no choice in any aspect of my life...1.my money situation...I blame myself, for having the bipolar that contributed to it (the credit card maxing on mania, the quitting jobs on mania, quitting school mania, and my fault for quitting meds, lying to my doctors,etc) 2. My weight...I have PCOS (another thing i am not on my medication for), Depression I have no motivation, obesity runs in my family, Bipolar, was on meds that cause weight gain..all those things cause this weight and/or makes it harder to get it off. 3. Medical Care...I have no choice because i have no insurance i have to take what is offered. 4. Food...the one thing that makes me feel better, safe, happy...i cant choose what i eat because i want to loose weight and i am on a diet. 5. Babies...I want babies...but one it would be selfish for many reasons...my bipolar, my husbands mom history of bipolar, I dont want a kid growing up with that kind of genetics or with a mom that cant even get it together half the time, it would also be selfish because my husband and i cant provide for it anyway be it money or a bedroom...we have neither...
I just feel like nothing in my life has purpose, I have no control of anything, I cant have any dreams come true that i had for myself, I feel like this illness is taking over and no matter how hard i fight it its going to get me in the end.
I am gonna share a "secret"...every time I watch a movie where there is suicide..and i have seen a few that steamed from bipolar disorder...I cry, I panic and I cant stop thinking to myself that that is my inevitable fate......and even if it isn't? What is my purpose? I bring stress to all around me, I make mistake after mistake after mistake, and i just feel I am in a whirl wind that won't stop. I wish this was all a bad dream and i could just wake up.
Earlier I touched on this, but my question is: Without Bipolar Disorder, what defines me? Who am I without my illness? What is the real me? What are my true dislikes and likes? What is my real personality underneath it all? Am i defined by Bipolar or is that just who i am ? I am sorry for all my posts today and all the rambling and negativity....but i can definitely feel a bottom to this down coming soon...and i don't if this time i can get back up. It seems the whole world is caving in and i am screaming and no one is there to listen or hear me. excuses they may be, but its truly how i feel.
Friday, February 26, 2010
Doctors, Diagnosis, Fear, and Working
Ok, so there is this place about 30 minutes from where i live that accepts patients with no insurance, but you have to call at 8am...for a same day appointment. I have a few drawbacks...one they do a sliding scale based on income...my husband is the only one that works, all of his paycheck has to go to bills or we wont make it...they are not going to see it this way and still want us to pay at the very least 20 dollars, plus prescriptions.
Second drawback, I have a dreadful sleep schedule and half the time I am just hitting the hay at 8am.
Third drawback, I am afraid. i am absolutely terrified of going back to see a psychiatrist. I am not so afraid of the therapist part, but the actual doctor...yea i am scared shitless. The last man i saw, was so mean. I know mean is an understated preschool word, but he was. I felt two inches tall while sitting in front of him. I felt judged, laughed at, hated, and worst of all like he didn't believe a word I said. He never even gave me a true diagnoses. He said we are treating you for bipolar...almost like he didn't want to give it a name...but that he had to call it something...no type of bipolar no extra pieces of diagnosis..nothing. He always acted put upon for having to write scripts and for having to write a letter for me to be able to go back to work. He even expressed his dislike towards me and I continued to go because i like my therapist, and i couldn't see my therapist if i didn't stay with his practice. He even would get angry with me if i shared things with my therapist that i didn't with him...umm, HELLOOO i got 20 minutes with him and an hour with my therapist...he would accuse me of lying to him and would say so smugly "How can i help you if you are going to lie to me every time we meet?" Every time i had an appointment with him I would feel nauseated...scared even to open my mouth. I never felt comfortable and i never felt like i could be completely honest with him.
I just really don't want another experience like the one i had. I am afraid.
The other thing i am scared of is working again. On Meds...i space out..i move slow, i cant keep up, i feel like people are talking to me through a tunnel, I don't preform well at all. Off meds, i cry hysterically before going to work to the point my husband wont even let me drive so i am late or don't go in at all, I get so angry while i am at work, I back talk superiors and even customers, I will even appear crazy when i talk to myself....yea i know i'm retarded i talk to myself....before going into work i just dread it, before i cry, i just think of different scenarios and i stress myself out, i get a headache, stomach ache and i want to run in the house cry and go back to bed...the thought of work is unbearable to me. If and when i get to work all i think is "they are judging me" i drive myself crazy adjusting my clothes, talking under my breath, watching everyone around me, every move they make, I cant stand it...i feel like everyone is watching me...then it feels like someone is sitting on my chest and it gets really hard to breathe...especially when its crowded or loud. Is this normal? Does everyone feel this way about work..how do they work through it if they do...? I hate that my husband has to provide for me...he has given up things to work to provide for me...I feel like a failure, a leech, a parasite, incompetent...and this is with or without meds. Read on if you want to see how i go to the point i am now....
[The story of how I got unemployed and without doctor supervision...long story short
I had been cutting..first time ever started when i was 20...It got worse when i was put on lithium...i was seriously contemplating suicide...I was put on medical leave at work.....i admitted myself to a mental hospitol for a week...i got out decided i didn't want this anymore...i quit my job got, lost my insurance, lied to my psychiatrist that i was feeling much better since my wonderful experience at the hospital (which was full of drug addicts not one person with an illness like me), quit seeing the therapist and psych (no insurance), Quit my meds (no doc, insurance, or refills), went back to the university, got a part time job, had a horrible manic depressive mood quit going to class, withdrew from school quit my new job...and the rest...history...this is where i am today...my husband and i live with my parents, because we lost out rental house when i lost my job, he works a job that pays only a small amount more than minimum wage... we have no insurance, he gets less than 40 hours a week, I have no job, no schooling, no doctor, no life....I am pathetic and everyday feel the effects of my bad mistakes. I feel worthless. I now blog to keep myself busy and to relate with others. MY friends and family get sick of hearing my sob story and i guess i don't blame them.]
Sorry for all the posting today...just a lot on my mind...two posts may not be all...but i will try to hold back.
Second drawback, I have a dreadful sleep schedule and half the time I am just hitting the hay at 8am.
Third drawback, I am afraid. i am absolutely terrified of going back to see a psychiatrist. I am not so afraid of the therapist part, but the actual doctor...yea i am scared shitless. The last man i saw, was so mean. I know mean is an understated preschool word, but he was. I felt two inches tall while sitting in front of him. I felt judged, laughed at, hated, and worst of all like he didn't believe a word I said. He never even gave me a true diagnoses. He said we are treating you for bipolar...almost like he didn't want to give it a name...but that he had to call it something...no type of bipolar no extra pieces of diagnosis..nothing. He always acted put upon for having to write scripts and for having to write a letter for me to be able to go back to work. He even expressed his dislike towards me and I continued to go because i like my therapist, and i couldn't see my therapist if i didn't stay with his practice. He even would get angry with me if i shared things with my therapist that i didn't with him...umm, HELLOOO i got 20 minutes with him and an hour with my therapist...he would accuse me of lying to him and would say so smugly "How can i help you if you are going to lie to me every time we meet?" Every time i had an appointment with him I would feel nauseated...scared even to open my mouth. I never felt comfortable and i never felt like i could be completely honest with him.
I just really don't want another experience like the one i had. I am afraid.
The other thing i am scared of is working again. On Meds...i space out..i move slow, i cant keep up, i feel like people are talking to me through a tunnel, I don't preform well at all. Off meds, i cry hysterically before going to work to the point my husband wont even let me drive so i am late or don't go in at all, I get so angry while i am at work, I back talk superiors and even customers, I will even appear crazy when i talk to myself....yea i know i'm retarded i talk to myself....before going into work i just dread it, before i cry, i just think of different scenarios and i stress myself out, i get a headache, stomach ache and i want to run in the house cry and go back to bed...the thought of work is unbearable to me. If and when i get to work all i think is "they are judging me" i drive myself crazy adjusting my clothes, talking under my breath, watching everyone around me, every move they make, I cant stand it...i feel like everyone is watching me...then it feels like someone is sitting on my chest and it gets really hard to breathe...especially when its crowded or loud. Is this normal? Does everyone feel this way about work..how do they work through it if they do...? I hate that my husband has to provide for me...he has given up things to work to provide for me...I feel like a failure, a leech, a parasite, incompetent...and this is with or without meds. Read on if you want to see how i go to the point i am now....
[The story of how I got unemployed and without doctor supervision...long story short
I had been cutting..first time ever started when i was 20...It got worse when i was put on lithium...i was seriously contemplating suicide...I was put on medical leave at work.....i admitted myself to a mental hospitol for a week...i got out decided i didn't want this anymore...i quit my job got, lost my insurance, lied to my psychiatrist that i was feeling much better since my wonderful experience at the hospital (which was full of drug addicts not one person with an illness like me), quit seeing the therapist and psych (no insurance), Quit my meds (no doc, insurance, or refills), went back to the university, got a part time job, had a horrible manic depressive mood quit going to class, withdrew from school quit my new job...and the rest...history...this is where i am today...my husband and i live with my parents, because we lost out rental house when i lost my job, he works a job that pays only a small amount more than minimum wage... we have no insurance, he gets less than 40 hours a week, I have no job, no schooling, no doctor, no life....I am pathetic and everyday feel the effects of my bad mistakes. I feel worthless. I now blog to keep myself busy and to relate with others. MY friends and family get sick of hearing my sob story and i guess i don't blame them.]
Sorry for all the posting today...just a lot on my mind...two posts may not be all...but i will try to hold back.
Family, Friends, and Other Stuff
Do you ever feel like people just do not want you around? I do. My friends often wonder why I am so down a lot of the time, why I am not always happy and ready to go out and do things. They wonder why sometimes I am not my silly self or why I am to tears over things that are "silly" to cry about. The moment though that I decide to explain it to them...they half listen, change the subject, or don't listen at all. Then after the conversation is finally over I then don't hear from them for a long while...its like when I am feeling up and happy thats when I have to call them, its never them calling to check in on me. (i take that back there is one friend that does worry from time to time and i appreciate that)But a majority of them only want the me thats wild and crazy and silly and weird....do they not realize thats mania? That's bipolar behavior also. Then its when I am on meds...they think i am supposed to magically feel better and be the me i am when i am happy manic...they are disappointed when i am blahh. I sit stare into space, feel so lethargic, nothing makes me happy or sad or angry, i am just "there". It's like this blog...they don't understand me...but they won't even take the time to read how i feel....its hypocritical "I want to know, but..." I wont read or listen to what you have to say.
As for my family...well...there are similar behaviors. There is the family i live near and am very close to and then theres the people I keep in touch with and see every summer. All of them notice things in me...notice somethings off about me, but only a few take interest...and none are without judgement. The ones that take interest think they are the all knowing God's of bipolar and what they think and know is the truth and that they know exactly what i need and what i feel...like i am a science projects to study! Even the people in this category will go as far as saying how much they understand, but when i have a swing, a moment, a trigger...its not because i am bipolar..or that that is just how i am its...."you are a baby", "you are immature", "you are a bitch", "grow up". I just want to scream! Why am I not an adult, because of the way i act in certain situations? I am pretty sure there are all kinds of "adults" and not all can be categorized the same. Who and what defines what an adult is? I am by no means using my illness as a scapegoat, but I know that a lot of my ways have a lot to do with it. As i have said in previous posts...where does bipolar start and end and where does "ME" begin? Where, who, what am I? Sometimes in family affairs i get so angry and i go public with my scoldings and hateful words...(Facebook) I will scold them all and be as mean as can be...inside i am yelling don't do that don't do that..you will cause problems, you will make someone mad or hurt or worse...but i do it anyway...i let my rage take over...(not saying i don't mean what i say, just that i could have kept it to myself) like is that me or my illness? Why cant i control it if it is me? OR is it simply that I am my illness???! If thats the case I don't know that it is worth living...I want to be someone with my own thoughts, my own mind, my own wants, likes and dislikes...not this jumble of a mess inside of me. When i do things like this I am then scolded...and ripped apart by the family members that don't care and don't see it for face value. The other thing i think is are they mad because its true or mad because i was so mean about it? I am accused of jumping to conclusions, being irrational, speaking out of turn, and other things...maybe thats true but at the time of writing it it just doesn't feel that way to me. That aside...overall i feel cast aside by my family and by my friends...like i am not welcome amongst them unless i put on a happy face, or I am medicated...(when medicated there is no face at all) they actually prefer me as a shell of myself...emotionless, quiet, tired, zombified. My dad even goes as far to say that I am making up my bipolar as an excuse to be and i quote "LAZY".
With this illness, can anyone really ever love "me"?? Is it possible? Am i just overacting?
As for my family...well...there are similar behaviors. There is the family i live near and am very close to and then theres the people I keep in touch with and see every summer. All of them notice things in me...notice somethings off about me, but only a few take interest...and none are without judgement. The ones that take interest think they are the all knowing God's of bipolar and what they think and know is the truth and that they know exactly what i need and what i feel...like i am a science projects to study! Even the people in this category will go as far as saying how much they understand, but when i have a swing, a moment, a trigger...its not because i am bipolar..or that that is just how i am its...."you are a baby", "you are immature", "you are a bitch", "grow up". I just want to scream! Why am I not an adult, because of the way i act in certain situations? I am pretty sure there are all kinds of "adults" and not all can be categorized the same. Who and what defines what an adult is? I am by no means using my illness as a scapegoat, but I know that a lot of my ways have a lot to do with it. As i have said in previous posts...where does bipolar start and end and where does "ME" begin? Where, who, what am I? Sometimes in family affairs i get so angry and i go public with my scoldings and hateful words...(Facebook) I will scold them all and be as mean as can be...inside i am yelling don't do that don't do that..you will cause problems, you will make someone mad or hurt or worse...but i do it anyway...i let my rage take over...(not saying i don't mean what i say, just that i could have kept it to myself) like is that me or my illness? Why cant i control it if it is me? OR is it simply that I am my illness???! If thats the case I don't know that it is worth living...I want to be someone with my own thoughts, my own mind, my own wants, likes and dislikes...not this jumble of a mess inside of me. When i do things like this I am then scolded...and ripped apart by the family members that don't care and don't see it for face value. The other thing i think is are they mad because its true or mad because i was so mean about it? I am accused of jumping to conclusions, being irrational, speaking out of turn, and other things...maybe thats true but at the time of writing it it just doesn't feel that way to me. That aside...overall i feel cast aside by my family and by my friends...like i am not welcome amongst them unless i put on a happy face, or I am medicated...(when medicated there is no face at all) they actually prefer me as a shell of myself...emotionless, quiet, tired, zombified. My dad even goes as far to say that I am making up my bipolar as an excuse to be and i quote "LAZY".
With this illness, can anyone really ever love "me"?? Is it possible? Am i just overacting?
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