BetterHelp

So, I’ve been absent from blogging partially because I’m not depressed or manic, partially because I’m freaking out about school starting soon and can’t really put those feeling down, and partially because I got a counselor through Better Help to help me carry over until the point where I can actually go see a counselor in person. My insurance through this school is different and my appointment with my new primary doctor isn’t until the end of August, so I’m not sure when I can actually get in with a counselor I like. I didn’t think I could wait until September with all the stuff on here I’ve been opening up about so I’m trying Better Help in a desperate attempt to stay okay for awhile.

I got a tiny discount, which makes it easier to be okay with, and it’s actually helping? I didn’t expect to feel relief so soon, but I do and it’s nice.

Also, 20% sure I saw Nicole at Hyvee yesterday. If she recently shaved part of her head and dyed the remaining swoop purple, then I definitely saw and purposely ignored her while having mini internal panic attacks in the gourmet cheese section.

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iPhone – Depressive episode

July 23, 2018

And just like that, the depressive episode is over.

I can still miss Nicole, but the sting isn’t as bad and I can focus on all the people in my life that I do love.

I know its over when I feel love for myself and hope in the wind.

Not sick, not better

Not sick anymore, the cold is gone. I lied, there’s still a cough, but this is definitely the fastest cold I’ve had in a while. I came home for a few days to visit.

Depression is a funny presence. My sister says things when I’m home with her like how she thinks getting sick is all a mental game and how when she just takes zinc tablets when she feels she’s getting a cold, that the cold goes away and never manifests. She thinks a lot of it is a placebo effect and if she can convince herself she doesn’t have a cold, that her body always stops being sick.

Sometimes when I come home, I lose track of time by leaving my phone in my bedroom all day and only spending my time beside my mom in the garden or running errands with my dad. Losing track of time and days is easy and though it helps lessen general stress, it doesn’t take away depression.

It’s funny to me because I used to be so in denial of the bipolar. I used to think it was a misdiagnosis or that mine wasn’t so bad and I didn’t need medication. I used to think I could be two different people; the one who had bipolar and suffered and the one who was still an independent and carefree daughter. I want to say this thinking was during the time I was still hiding my diagnosis from my family, but I felt this even recently, this need to keep my diagnosis separate from my inner definition.

Part of it is fully accepting the sex abuse and rape and true sexuality and that there’s trauma there that isn’t processed or sorted out yet. Part of it is all the realizations and becomings and general experience in now living with this diagnosis for a few years and knowing how I respond or how long these episodes generally last.

I know that when I’m depressed it lasts at least a month. I know my hypomania in full force lasts only a few days, but with high stress, can reoccur several times a year. I know that between episodes I will have mood swings between irritable and angry feelings. I know that I’m generally harsher towards my family because I trust them but also because I don’t trust them.

I know my bipolar doesn’t go away with positive thoughts.

I’m still depressed and being home doesn’t stop that. Hiding my phone all day doesn’t make me happier. Not taking antipsychotics doesn’t lessen my daily headache. Being surrounded by people doesn’t make me feel less alone. It doesn’t make me forget I have depression or bipolar or desperately need to talk to a counselor.

I know myself pretty well these days. Coming home doesn’t fix or even mask my problems. Sometimes home amplifies them. I’m coming off my cold but still in a depressed episode. Still, it feels better knowing myself even if I don’t like what I have.

Sick Saturdays

Even without a fancy mood tracker, I’m beginning to see a pattern. Weekends with little routine or social plans are not my strength. The depressed feelings are back though significantly better than last weekend.

I went out drinking with coworkers last night and got reasonably drunk before Liz picked me up (I paid for dinner) and dropped me off at my car after. We watched Westworld, which I fell asleep for part of, then went to bed.

Today, I had already signed myself up for a cooking class at the fancy grocery store where we learned how to can and preserve jam and jellies using black currants and bourbon soaked vanilla beans (serious yum). We actually met before the class to pick the currants ourselves at the community garden, which was extra cool since its open to the public whenever. Afterwards, I picked up lunch at the grocery store, headed home to listen to the MFM podcast out on the patio, then came in and crashed for a long nap.

I’ve had a sore throat and extreme tiredness all week. The tiredness may still be linked to the depressive episode, though I think I’m mostly moving past that quite quickly. The sore throat popped up around Thursday, and after having most of the high school class out sick with a respiratory cold this week, I’m pretty convinced that’s what is coming on.

The sky outside is green and stormy and its supposed to be patchy like this through tomorrow. Monday is the last day of school, with most kids not coming, and my old coworkers and I going out for Mexican after work.

Shit is good, it’s just hard being in a new place with few friends, no girlfriend, and a scratchy sore throat. But, I can hear Liz in the next room, I still need to make dinner, and just realizing all these factors makes me realize the depressive episode has mostly faded.

Tomorrow is church and an evening concert. We’re not gone at all.

iPhone – Sliding down

July 15, 2018 (1:41 pm)

Things have become rapidly bad again. It’s not because of a breakup or anything significant.

It’s the crippling sadness, emptiness, loneliness, sleepless, pain that I feel only in a depressive episode.

I break into random moments of tears and can’t make it through a single church service without starting to cry.

I canceled all my plans this weekend and stayed in bed for the majority of yesterday. Except, I did manage to get out, call my folks to talk about Grandma’s birthday, and walk a grand total of 4.5 miles. The walking was mindless, but the distance and time occupation felt good. I’m going to try and go back out today before the rain.

Last night, however, I didn’t go to sleep until 5:15 am, only to wake up again at 7:30 am for church. I cried on and off for several hours before forcing myself to go to sleep to escape the thoughts.

I relived college memories of watching a fellow classmate in a neighboring dorm kill themselves by stepping off the balcony. I relived the memories of the rape and sex abuse and ptsd coping and why the fuck is this my life?

I feel very weighted by my thoughts this weekend and I’m afraid to reach out but I’m trying to go through my contacts for someone I can meet up with this week who could pray with me but not grow too concerned. I need, need, need to find a counselor to unload all of this onto. It’s becoming desperate.

I’m starting to wish I had the effects of the medication again without the side effects. Depression isn’t something I ever feel prepared for and it scares me.

I need to find someplace to pray today.

 

Leg work

On my end will be the mental stuff

Like telling myself I’m good enough.

I want you to make me strong

So everyone else knows it.

But really, I’ve joined 2 running groups, a biking group, 1 yoga studio, and 1 gym with hopefully 1 personal trainer.

Time and place

When was a time where you came the closest to killing yourself?

A lightening storm in ’08…

Not when you were still just thinking about it.

A college dorm in ’11…

But when you almost left.

A kitchen floor in ’16…

So only a few times, that’s no so bad…