Being bipolar can really suck sometimes…U

The nature of the “crazy-beast” is that when you are crazy, or going crazy then you do not believe you are crazy.

I know that there is a cliche about that, but unlike most cliches, this one is definitely true.

I know first-hand, because I am “bipolar 1-with psychotic features” -although current groovy dr. just shortens it to being bipolar or having manic-depression. It is more than a label. It is an illness. But it is a treatable one.Not easy to have nor to treat, but it is possible, to live a semi-normal life while being bipolar.

I think i am one of the lucky ones. I was diagnosed roughly 21 years ago-in 1992. Since then, I have amassed a huge group of friends, family, and trusted allies. It is vital to staying well to have some sort of support-network, whether its friends, family, church, priest, rabbi, minister,siblings,spouses,employers ect. You need objective persons in your life who can look out for you when you are not objective. If your really bipolar-you will not always be 100% objective. It is the nature of the “crazy-beast.”

I just had a major break-through last night. I realized I have been having some sort of episode-hypomania or mixed-mania, with paranoia, for at least the last two weeks. I called my Dr this morning to confirm this-(my husband already did confirm though) and to just let her know- i was on the same page now. I knew I had been sick. I complimented her method of handling it. Unlike past doctors I had had at Community Mental health-she did not directly address this issue that i was “sick”. She is an excellent doctor, by the way. I first saw her back in 1998-2000. i stopped seeing her because i took advantage of her, during an episode to get her to prescribe me medications i had no attention of correctly taking. It was long ago i was only 26.

I decided to swallow 30 depakote and kill myself. It was dramatic and extreme.I really violated her trust in our relationship.But soon after i did that stupid stupid thing i began to change my mind…when my boyfriend-(now hubby)-got home from a midnights job i confessed everything and he rushed me to the nearest hospital, most likely saving my life. I was given charcoal and was in the ICU for four days straight. That was my first and last ever serious suicide attempt.

After that my doctor broke up with me- i don’t blame her at all for this. So i started going to Community Mental Health. I went on and off for years-the off parts were during episodes….

2 years ago, yesterday, i married my boyfriend of 11 years. My health insurance changed slightly. We had wrongly deduced if we were to get married i would lose my Medicare and Medicaid-so he put me on his Blue Cross Employee insurance. Now CMH refused to treat me saying they did not accept blue cross.

I called my old doctor. I was very persistent, and convincing. I explained I had grown up a lot since she last treated me. I ask if i could please be her patient again? She was hesitant, but willing to give me a second shot.That was almost 2 years ago. I am so thankful she said yes to being my doctor again. She is the best and my most favorite doctor I have ever had in the over two decades of this madness.

Fast forward to the past two weeks….I became very irritated, the day after ,the day after, my 39th birthday. So like 2 days after my birthday-may 21-i lost my shit. May 23rd was terrible, but May 24th and 25th were much worse.

I guess it was a hypo-mania-(mild mania) or a mixed state-(both depressed and manic mixed together.)

If my doctor confronted me about being paranoid or manic, I would have stopped speaking with her-probably even fired her as my doctor.

instead, she choose to just listen-after i found myself in a safe shelter house for women with domestic violence she started increasing my meds.

we did have a small mishap with that-she raised my lithium too high-while i did not go toxic-i had dangerous symptoms and had to be briefly hospital2ized over night. My lithium levels never been that high before-it was 1.25.So she lowered it back down to its normal dose. And just raised other meds.

Eventually, i decided to forgive my hubby and came home two nights ago. At first, i still thought i was in my right mind-but then my doctor wanted to raise my sereoquel XR some more. A couple hours later, i realized with her frequently raising my meds, i must be having another episode. I cried hysterically for over  2 hours while mu husband just held me and told me that he still loves me. i was devastated.I was confused but coming to my senses.

And i was safe, he was safe, we were still married-it was going to be ok. To be honest, i am even crying as i am writing this-I feel cheated somehow, but by my own mind…i do not understand how i could so quickly get sick again-without typical warning signs? It is a very scary feeling to be paranoid. Especially terrified of friends and family who love you. I thought it was all hubby’s fault. What i mistook as physical abuse was him trying to restrain me and keep me from running away-i always run away….usually nowhere safe or good. This time was a bit better- i wound up in a safe place.

All i can say is bipolar disorder is a serious illness and “crazyness is a beast.” which is difficult to contain.

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marriage counseling and fixing whats not right:

My husband and self, both have many-yet different-emotional scars from our own childhoods.

Sometimes these differences really tear us apart.

I have my reasons-which i will not disclose here-(read my memoirs recalled madness: a personal account of manic-depressive illness by Emily Sturgill 2013-available off Amazon.com for more specific details-)

Anyways, i have my reasons, that

if somebody physical grabs me in anger or is violent at all,

during an argument, i will pretty much cut that person out of my life completely.

If that sounds insane or extreme, I apologize.

However, it is based on how i was raised-that a man should never hit a woman,

nor lay his hands upon her, while in a state of anger/violence.

This is a well-known trigger of mine, that my husband,

has mistakenly set off on separate occasions.

 

For his part- part of his past were living with parents,

who argued/screamed and yelled everyday.

Thus, his trigger is arguing. When and if we argue,

and he feels bad enough to yell or scream – he tries to grab me,

and force me to listen.

 

The intimidation of being grabbed

in anger really sets me off,

i never call the police or press charges.

i simply go into flight or flee mode.

 

i pack my shit and leave.

persons without a history,

of childhood abuse, physical violence,

in my case both parents equally were messed up

until 7th grade when my Dad sought therapy.

 

My mom did not go into therapy until i was 18.

So i don’t even wanna go there-she was also bipolar.

She is the one, i take the most after.

Dad had OCD among other issues.

 

But after he got got help, things were better

for a time-at least better he and I.

Mom was another story entirely.

 

Anyways, about 2 weeks ago,

i was feeling threatened physically by my husband,

so after discussion with 4 different older strong women

in my life i decided to go stay at

a battered woman’s shelter.

 

Because today is the 2 year anniversary

of our wedding and because he apologized

between 5-7 times, i agreed to comeback home.

 

its a work in progress.

but im hopeful , since he’s agreed

to attend therapy his own self-

and face some of his own inner demons.

 

 

 

 

 

nightmares and panic attacks

i realize whats past is past,

yet i still inside my mind and body and heart-

i still am standing in that same burning building/

my hands are spread apart-

and he is holding me down and i-

i am crying and screaming

for him to just let me go-

that i cannot even breathe.

then i wake up still trapped inside my dream,

my nightmare,  the past.

it holds me in fist of rock solid granite-

it pulls me down it won’t let me go.

The wolf and red riding hood

What happens to the girl,

when she realizes its not grandma-in her bed,

its a wolf instead.

 

And his teeth are scary sharp and mean,

they glisten and gleam

with anger, rage, and heartache

verging

on a natural disaster.

 

What should the girl do,

should she trust the wolf with its

bright pretty eyes

and his lengthy explanation-

filled with nothing but lies?

 

“Baby, I won’t hurt you.”

“Baby lets work things out…”

“Baby, this marriage is worth saving.”

“When i mentioned murder-suicide in a casual way-it was because i was only joking.”

“You believe me right? Folks say stuff like that all the time but never mean it…”

Yeah, well…not so much.

 

 

That was when red riding hood spied

her grandmothers shiny bare bones

in their walk-in closet.

 

Never trust a wolf,

right there and then she decided.

A wolf is always lying.

chronic pain

when you suffer from
a chronic pain disorder,
people frequently
try to tell you, that,
the pain you feel
is all made up in your head.

So then therefore, your not only
hurting all over but
your lying or just plain crazy too.

If somebody smiles at you
knowingly and promises
surgery as a cure,
then they may not only be
violating their oath
of do no harm

but they also maybe
clearly wrong.

Why take chances like that?
It’s extreme, and chronically
broken, this healthcare
riot of a system-

we are stuck in.
you try to trust them, after all,
they are doctors right?

however sometimes it pays,
to get a second,
or even third or fourth,
opinion.

Especially, if the doctor
in question appears to
be selling snake-skin oil
claiming its pure gold.

It’s not always easy to see the liars,
from the rest or
who you determine,
is the best.

But if your 6th sense,
is tingling like crazy
like somebody is full of shit
and lying to you,

i would say trust your
heart above all else.
Do not take drastic measures,
if you feel against it.

then follow your own advice.

****one more poem about this: http://dirtyfilthybutterflyblues.blogspot.com/2013/04/meltdowns-from-madness.html

you want fries with that?

This was first posted on the other blog on
blogspot-dirtyfilthybutterflyblues
but i wrote it all by myself like 15 min ago-
(by Emily Sturgill, 2013)

You want fries with that?
You want fries with that?
I imagine my ob-gyn saying,
as he nonchalantly suggests,
what i really need,
is but of course;

a total and complete
hysterectomy, uterus,ovaries
everything out…because
that would “cure” me
absolutely for sure…

I look at him rather blankly,
he says it as if its no big deal
this sterilization of everything

female and mine.
He does acknowledge, once again,
the bare facts, that my husband and I
would like to have a baby.

He insists this with false cheer,
that we should definitely do IVF then
get the hysterectomy later, on the side so to speak.
As if i were as simple as marching right up
to the local IVF store and buying a single
baby gift card. Yeah, right, I’ll be sure
to get right on it,

in a jiffy, as soon as I win the mega millions jackpot.
And, I will certainly consider your “promised cure.”
as soon as I decide to give up on everything
and opt for dangerous surgeries,
that come with instant menopause
attached.

So pissed off right about,
NOW. He even said at my age, pregnancy is highly,
unlikely, in 8 weeks I will turn 39.
So yeah, I guess I will go with

the king-size, large order of hysterectomy, to go
with a appetizer of IVF, a large sweet tea, some infertility;
oh yes, I would like fries with that.

Did i mention I fucking hate doctors?
It’s ridiculous. I’m not going to have anybody remove all
my lady parts, just because, they would
like a hefty paycheck-bonus.

i think i can see the future.
I’m getting a vision right now,
clear as day, this is the last visit
to your office for me.

Goodbye. Nice knowing you,
but nothing personal,
just go screw you.
thanks, I think i’ll take the fries,
but hold off on everything else.

i need to believe.

I need to believe….

that everything

happens for a reason.

I need to believe.

 

I need to believe

in sunsets and rainbows.

in true love and soul mates

in Divine Fate.

 

I need to believe

that we all have

a calling; something greater than ourselves;

 

I need to believe

that love is the glue

which sticks my world together

and threats of mortality-

these really do not matter.

 

I need to believe

that dreaming of something better,

is somehow attainable,

something to grasp-if you do not walk past.

 

I need to believe

that love lives forever,

even if people do not,

I need to believe,

 

out of this tight and narrow spot,

I need to believe,

that things will get better.

I need to believe,

 

in hope.

Welcome home; in more ways than one

Damn it all,

as determined as I was NOT to go.

the PAIN won,

and I became undone.

 

I found myself at 4pm-home alone-

except for a sickly mother-in-law.

she had a car, My car was at the husbands

place of employment.

I has no choice, doubled up in pain, screaming & crying,

moaning even. I had to ask the heart patient, with

high blood pressure and emotional issues-

to drive me to an ER,

 

I was there five hours,

2.5 of which i was gasping to/

breathe in between screams./

they were nice enough/

I was a wild mess.

 

They ordered a CT scan,

they found multiple issues,

ones I had known about for almost 3 years/

tried to ignore.

 

scary words-like legions/renal masses/

renal cysts/poly-cystic right kidney/

and the oh-to-familiar,

chocolate ovarian cyst/ right ovary.

 

Then the referrals to:

multiple doctors/my primary/a urologist/

a kidney specialist-(which sounded a lot like nerf-ball)

-a nerfologist, a obgyn-(again)…even a neurologist.

they were not even referrals more like directions/

listed in my discharge summary…

 

All I can think is will I really need my kidney removed?

And neoplasm -just a 10 cent word for cancer-,

mu husband says think small, think biopsy, do not get/

ahead of yourself.

After all those hours screaming and crying,

its not to hard to get a head,

sooner or later,

one day I might just be

dead.

 

 

Surreal

Sirens howling, blaring in the distance,

in the in-between places,

in -between your house and mine,

my world and the next 6 blocks over,

or maybe five?

is somebody dead?

is somebody still alive?

Did somebody have a car crash?

Is there a house, on a city street, engulfed in flames?

Between-the here-and there,

The sirens call, they blare, they scream

an unknown name…

like something strange from a dream.

But usually when i hear that sound,

the swirl, the scream, the panic,

of emergency sirens, fire, or police/woman and men/

i know that there is trouble somewhere afoot.

And then the noise stops as swiftly as it began,

and slowly i forget,

since it was not me, or my family, or even my neighbors,

but the places-the spaces-of the in-between,

5 or 6 blocks off,

when a fire goes down,

how horrible is it,

to stand there, and, just watch?

it’s surreal, to me, how we can just ignore,

the sounds of a siren,

as it screams and howls,

some more.