Reconciling Saints

In seeing the news about the morons who make the rules meeting about our healthcare and what they came up with, it really hit me that the healthcare I rely on (which isn't the best, mind you) might go away in... what? Less than a year?

How long, really, will it take them to totally get rid of the Affordable Care Act? If they do, that is. I know there's a chance if we all speak up and some of those morons get their heads out of their asses.
Asking for a friend.

Well, let's say that they have it out by 2018... that's less than 6 months away which isn't really a long time.

As I see it, I have two choices: I either have to find a job - any job - that offers healthcare OR I need to get ready for The Battle. Honestly, I'm going for the latter. I'm tired of getting a job just because of something like health care or money (by money, I mean more money).

This morning's run was powered by getting ready to do battle. because I know that I have to battle every day... and it's a bit scary to know that the tools and medication that I have right now could likely go away. I know I can't stay in this head space forever... and, frankly, I've already lost touch of some of what I know to do.

Thinking about it is scary. No meds. I know I can do it for a while, I've done it before when I didn't have health care, but I don't think that being unmedicated in the long run (for most of us) is a good thing.

The other day I had an epiphany. It had something to do with meds… and feeling out of it… it had something to do with wondering if I made the right decision to have a go without meds and if I need to go back on them… and how that thought was a crutch... could be a crutch… and that proves it was a crutch. I get scared, so I want my meds… because I don’t let myself deal with this myself. I need to do this OFF of meds so that I know that I can do this on meds.

I need to be off meds so that I can find out that I can do most of this off of meds so that I can do this with them, too. I need to develop the skills concurrent with the meds… so that I know I’m ok… so that I’m not a time bomb - won't feel like a timebomb - because I know how I’ll handle it… and that I can handle it… and it won’t stop the crazy. Nothing can stop the little things that will always bother me or the how of how I see things.

Let me back up a bit.

After some discussion with some close friends and my boyfriend, I went off meds once school ended in early May to try something out. I let people around me in on it so that they could help monitor me and my behavior, letting me know if I got too bad, or even calling me out if I slide too far one way or the other.

First of all, I wanted to get back in touch with what's wrong - try to feel it and figure it out... likely see if I can figure out triggers, and how it progresses, to how to stem the flow of the thoughts that might send me into depression or a tailspin. Some is for the sake of my writing (that sounds kind of hokey to me) since I feel I have to get back to the true feeling and experience of it, not make it just something remembered and botching the truth of it.

On TV or movies, one only ever sees the worst of it... and it's not always that way - usually it's subtle. I feel that it's much like the issue I had with telling my mom about being sexually molested when I was 7 (I told her when I was 9). What is shown is soo much bigger than what I experienced that I had a hard time recognizing what they showed on TV in me. The after school specials and "very special episode of..."s usually showed kids who were truly traumatized from their sexual abuse and I always thought about how awful that must be for them. What had happened with my mom's best friend's son (he was 16 or so at the time I was 7) was definitely less than that. He got grabby and did some exploring, but I wouldn't say it was traumatizing. I mean, I'm sure there are issues from it, and I've certainly talked about it with therapists, but I was not having behavioral issues, or wetting the bed, or anything like that.

I've gone off track a bit here...

Back to what this has to do with the bipolar. I want to write about an experience that's subtle, at least for the most part... and I have to remember how these things start... and that they usually come from nowhere and build. It's tough!

There's also the part of my... experiment... that has to do with making sure that I have my skills and that I can also learn to pinpoint what's coming on - be it triggers or how to tell if I'm a little off. I had a year off of meds when I first moved to KY because of lack of insurance and I feel like I was very good about using everything I had to make sure I was ok, especially since it was a tough year. My support group was not with me, for the most part. I had 2 people here that I could trust, so it was...scary. I was also newly officially separated from my ex of 10 years... with a pending divorce, at that! I mean, it was perfect for a meltdown and I had only been officially diagnosed for a little over a year! Still, I got through the year gloriously! I used all of my skills and the people around me for help.

However, I found that once I went on meds again and was with a therapist... I got worse. Well, not bad, but I wasn't as good as coping with things on my own, or paying attention to triggers and what went on in my head. It's like I got lazy and expected to let the meds do more. Well, that's my theory anyway. Also, I've been questioning adding medication since the psychiatrist I saw here was pushing to put me on lithium, which seemed excessive. Plus, she always wanted to add something if I had a bad day or if things were just a bit off and I didn't feel like anyone was really working with me to work out what was going on, like my therapists in Portland and California used to. It didn't and doesn't feel right to me.

So I wanted to focus on skills... and in order to do so I wanted to do it while I was in control of things and with a great network of people that can call me out and have learned what to watch for. I want to make sure I get this... and understand it, and with that learn about what happens to me and how to help it.

Woman on a park bench in Central Park, New York, 1957. Photo by Yale Joel

It scares me, not being on medication. Not because I feel out of control and not because I know that I'll go out of control. I don't. I don't know that. What if I can control it mostly, or maybe even keep it to minimum medication with the help of understanding my problem? I feel like I've become afraid of myself because I was told that I have to have medication, if not it would all go very badly. It's like... being the incredible hulk. It's not that I hate medication, and I do believe that it's very handy and necessary... I just... don't know that it's the only answer. I want more insight, not just medication. However, because I've had it drilled into me that medication is and always will be necessary, it's really scary to be without it... but in that scared-of-the-monster-under-the-bed kind of way. When you're a kid you're convinced it's there and you keep waiting for it to pop out.

Not that I'm saying that medication is imaginary/all in my head... just that... I want more than that, I guess. I want more than a blind belief that meds are the answer. I've a sneaking suspicion that it's both meds and skills, but really, I just wanted to know, you know? I also want to know how they work... what they do, and I feel like people are never really told. I'm ok with accepting the meds on faith when first diagnosed to get things right again - that is the time to simply act and get things back to normal. Shouldn't we - I - learn more about my condition and how to live with it now that it's a done diagnosis?

So... that's where I'm coming from on this meds business. When I will go back on them, I'm not sure.

Why I haven't told you has to do with being told that I always have to be on meds; I feel like a five-year-old that's snuck out of bed to sneak a twinkie. Would I have gotten the twinkie if I had asked for it... maybe... but no one was around to ask, so... there's that, too. Also, I constantly question when I should start up again and how. At this point, I think it's something that I would like to discuss further with Dr. R at the University of Cincinnati's division of bipolar research, whom I started talking to a month ago, and Dr. B, my general doctor.

It's something I felt I had to do in order to know more. I know it's risky, and many will frown upon it, but I felt I had to explore this, and I feel I'm going about it pretty safely.

Well kids, get ready for more rantings and ravings from the overground.

I will be off my meds as of next month. I just can't afford insurance anymore.

All right. I've gotten a few emails and I think you guys need an explanation.

I am not doing well. The diagnosis meant meds and the meds meant that they would take time for me to get sorted. I've also had to regulate my sleep which meant a mild anti-depressant/ sedative. Without it I get 3 or 4 hours of sleep due to the manic.

Well, they weren't quite catching on so they upped the dosage of my anti-depressant. As of week 5 of the upped dosage and the mood stabilizer, I was still terrorizing the boyo and my loved ones. At the psychiatrist appointment on Thursday I let her know that my cognitive distortion problem was getting worse. Half the time I trust people and the other half I don't trust anyone. Not even the boyo, which is ludicrous as he's done so much to try and help me and puts up with the ranting and raving. I'm seeing demons everywhere, in a sense.

So they've added a new drug to my cocktail. This one is an SSRI which works differently than the rest in that it ups the amount of serotonin. I've had this type before. The paxil made me blissed out and numb. Not to mention the sexual side effects which just really made me more depressed. It was a lot like when you feel like you have to sneeze and it just ends in a sort of "huh." Not satisfying AT ALL. The next one was Lexapro which was much better but I had a weight gain problem which ALSO made me depressed 'cause I didn't feel right in my own skin. It also toned me down a bit, but didn't numb me. I didn't notice this until they switched me to the Wellbutrin which is less invasive and I was a lot more fiesty. It felt like I had woken up from a long sleep.

So I'm not happy about the new drug, but I understand why it's necessary right now.

What does this have to do with my posting?

Mostly I don't post because I don't want to just post about how shitty I feel and end up having whiney posts. I know that my friends want to know what's wrong as no one has heard from me, so that's why I'm posting now. As JuggleJane said to me, if that's what you're feeling and going through, just post that. It's not that it's too personal to share since... well I'm a pretty open book. It's to save you from post after dreary post about how I'm tired of crying, tired of fighting and tired of being tired. It's boring me.

The instinct is to shut down and hole up but I have to fight that. So I fill my days with stuff to do. Work is terribly busy as we have a lot of projects and we're in the midst of moving offices and I'm in charge of coordinating, buying furniture, making sure the wiring and repairs are done, etc. Then it's off to the gym which I do 6 days a week to try to feel better and up the endorphins. I'm now wondering if I should make it 7. Some nights I hang out with friends... some nights I watch a movie or 30 Rock with the boyo. Movie night is mondays and we've been trying to go out on weekends more.

So by the time 9 pm rolls around, I'm generally pretty tired (and sore from the gym) and I sort of glaze over. I stare at Eddie the Shipboard Computer and I think, I need to write, I need to post, and I open up a browser window, go to this here blog and... stare at the space that I'm supposed to fill with words, which obviously doesn't happen.

I'll try to get to the emails you sent me this week and update you a bit more or answer your questions, but I thought that I'd offer up some sort of explanation for now.

Virtue out.

Ok so I’m here in Portland, finally! I feel like I’m so far from everything ‘cause my routine… or rather, the things I have available to me to do are not available. Does that make sense?

I had set it up so that there were things available to me to do… it wasn’t always routine, but I could if I wanted to type of thing, you know? It’s hard when there’s no talk of a job and no talk of an apartment… just trying to situate myself in the for now. Whilst at my parents’ … because I didn’t know the timing of it, I started my own routine… adjusting it when I was on assignment. God knows that the last week’s routine was a bit much *it consisted of a lot of drinking*

However! However… I’m feeling still a bit optimistic. I feel that it’ll all fall into place… and for that reason I’m trying to spend my time writing, so that I can work on that too and get that going.

There’s a little part of me that’s very hopeful about how things will go. There’s a little part that looks at this like a big adventure… the staying with Kat… the time to write. It’s what I have… it’s what I hoped for.

AND THEN… yes, there’s always an “and then” isn’t there?

I’m on the verge of having it all slip away. I’m easily distracted and my heart’s doing that beating too fast thing that happens when I have too much coffee… except I haven’t; the cup I purchased is the first of the day. My mind feels faintly on the verge of falling apart.

Confession: I’m off my meds and have been for the past 6 days. Not on purpose. I went to refill them only to find that the insurance I have through the temp agency does not cover prescriptions and a bottle of my meds will cost me $600… and that’s the generic.
Oddly, I’m doing a lot better than I thought I would be given the situation. Still, I can feel the slight distractions, the fuzziness at the edges, the slight panic that threatens to be unleashed. I get a little scared but mainly I keep telling myself that if I just ignore it, just concentrate on the incredible, that I will be ok and that I will not have a break down from going off my meds cold turkey.

…

How can I put this? I’m scared to death of losing it completely. I’m scared of falling off that precarious edge that I constantly find myself on. There’s so much that can happen.

What I have to remember, however, is that I’m stronger than that… we’re all stronger than that. How we choose to deal with the situation is the difference. I also know that there are things like the choices that make us wonder WHY it is that we’re right when it seems so very clear that we’re crazy.

Fuck… I keep losing my train of thought… I keep getting vaguely distracted which is keeping me from putting this whole thing into focus.

The overview is: things are good… strangely so. What with everything that could go… better, it’s still really good. Why? Well, first of all, I’m here in Portland, like I said I’d be. Secondly, I’m now at least in the same state as the boyo, even if not the apartment let alone the same city. I’m quite happy/ shocked/ amazed to be here and that things are moving along as they have been.

Also, just because you’re crazy and you do things that most people would consider disastrous, doesn’t mean that you’re wrong… or that crazy is a bad thing.
Think about THAT!