An article about my mother that she will probably never see

So I was hanging out with my mom last night. She is helping me get in a little bit of practice in before I go for my licence. Which is great. 8 years later, it's finally going to happen. Woot!

As per usual, we ended up talking about me being bipolar. It comes up naturally in discussion, especially with it being at the forefront of my mind lately. As usual, Mom ended up belittling what I'm going through.

I said that I'm a little bit manic right now. I know I am. The Dreams are back (I have the craziest dreams instead of truly sleeping when I'm manic). I need to speak. It's like pressure behind my lips. Just sitting, I feel like I need to pant because my body is moving so fast. ... I know what I'm feeling now. I've learned enough to be able to recognize it even though I'm just learning what may cause it.

So I told Mom that I'm feeling a little bit manic. Mom replied that everybody feels like that once in a while.

I told Mom that I'm in the process of upping my dose of the drug. She said that if I was feeling better, she couldn't understand why I was upping the dose. She doesn't want to know how fast I'm cycling and how I've been feeling lately. She's not interested. I think she hopes that I can eventually come off the drugs and be normal.

I told her that I was so proud of myself for being able to put my credit and debit cards in my room and leave them there. And to be able to go shopping with Joce last weekend and actually be able to budget for what I wanted. She says everybody goes through that. I told her that for me it wasn't about buying stuff. It was about the purchase. I can go on ebay and buy something, anything, just to spend the money. I'm quite often surprised when it shows up in the mail. And I hate that. I don't think that's normal. She just made that face that says that she doesn't believe me.

This isn't the only time that she makes me feel like what I'm feeling or going through isn't real or that I'm exaggerating. I'll be the first to mention that my Mom is mildly bipolar but not enough to need an actual diagnosis or to be on medication. But there are times that I feel like standing there screaming "Have you ever not slept for days on end because you have too much energy? Have you ever had the urge to kill yourself? How about to mutilate yourself? Have you ever picked a hole in your skin just to see if you bleed because you are having trouble believing that you are still human because you can't feel anything? Have you ever stood there yelling at somebody over something completely retarded, paused to apologize and then just keep yelling? Have you ever broken something during a fit of rage? Have you ever started crying in public for no reason? Have you ever pushed somebody away because you are scared that the pain inside of you is going to hurt them? Have you ever felt like you've polluted every relationship you have ever had? Because I have! And I know that most of these feelings are NOT within the realm of 'normal'."

I remember once, I was in high school at the time and it was my second or third severe depressive episode, that I went into the living room where my parents were watching TV. I sat down on the couch next to my mom and during the next commercial break, I attempted to express a fear I was having. It was the first time I ever felt like killing myself. I was so scared because I never felt like that before and I had for the last few days. I was scared that I wasn't going to be able to contain that urge. My parents pretty much said "No you don't". They didn't believe that what I said was serious. I got brushed off at a time when I really need not only them, I needed professional help.

One day I'll figure out how to talk to both of my parents in a way that they will finally understand what I'm going through.

I don't think I'm the only one on the bipolar scale either. I think Conley is too. He's always had a touchy personality. He starts yelling at the drop of a hat. He tried to kill himself once. He swallowed a whole bottle of Tylenol. He didn't realize that acetaminophen will make you really sick instead of stopping your ability to live. He had his bedroom in the basement of the town house at the time. I remember going over there the day after he did this (he did it late in the evening). Conley was down in his room sleeping and occasionally puking! Mom acted like him being sick was his just reward for swallowing that bottle. She never took him in. She never recommended that he should probably talk to somebody. She never called a mental health crisis line. I don't even remember her checking on him while I was there. I was scared that he would have puked in his sleep and choked. Tylenol has a heavy sedative effect. I bet you her tune would have been different if he had mixed that bottle with a little drain cleaner (fatal mix in a large enough quantity). Or if he had added a heavy enough sedative (he would have choked when he puked). Or if he had chosen a different pill. There are a lot of pills that are toxic in large doses. (Example, lithium, the drug they typically use treat bipolar. Isn't it funny that they give bipolar people something to kill themselves with.) Conley, fortunately seems to have grown out of most of the bipolar symptoms.

But when are my parents, and mostly my mother, realize that this is more than just being happy or sad? When is she going to lend some validity to what I'm feeling? When am I actually going to be able to rely on them as part of my support network? I don't think it's to much to ask or expect.

Shopping, Shopping, Shopping

Jocelyn and I went shopping on Saturday. First we hit up Dawn's and then we did a number on Reitmans. And I could have shopped and spent and shoppped for a lot longer than we did.

But I came up with an ingenious idea that everybody should be proud of. Being bipolar is getting offially expensive. My shopping habits are crazy! I'm now typically leaving my visa at home in my box unless I'm actually planning to use it with good intensions. When I went shopping I left my debit card at home and I took all of the food money out of my wallet. All that I had on me is what I could spend. And I spent every penny of it (to the point where I owe Joce a loonie - stupid GST). But for the first time I actually had to stop and think about what I could afford and budget the money I had. And I had to place some priorities on what I was getting. This is most definately the way to shop.

Yesterday my Mom called me and said that I should go shopping with her. I told her that I spent my shopping money on the weekend. I'm going to go with her if she still wants to go. I enjoy being her fashion advisor. Plus I'm going to try and milk it and help her spend some of her money on me.

I love clothes shopping. Especially for cute tops.

Doctors appointment

I had my doctors appointment yesterday. We think that the meds are working but I'm just not on a sufficient dose. So over the next 4 weeks we're going to be doubling the dose. I was on such a tiny dose to start with (100mg/day). We always start low because we never know how I'm going to react to a drug. Some times I take to it well, like this one. Sometimes a small dose will act like a large dose. Sometimes a drug will not have any effect at all. Sometimes I get wicked side effects. We're going to hope that this is going to get me balanced again. I'm looking forward to the moods slowing down.

I met Nick's relatives from Germany last night. They are very nice. It makes me feel a little better. But that boat is going to be chaos. The house felt overwhelmed last night and it's larger than the house boat is going to be.

In other news, my hip popped really good on Wednesday evening and isn't sitting strait in the joint. I'm super sore today and the Tylenol is making me very sleepy. I hope it pops again soon.

Why this vacation scares me so bad...

We (Nick and me) are joining his family for a vacation on a houseboat in BC in now... um... 12 sleeps. I'm so excited for this trip. I've never been. It's going to be so much fun.

As of Sunday, it struck me that I'm also terrified of this trip. I'm so scared that I'm going to have a meltdown on the boat. We're on there for 5 days. Lately I haven't been making it 5 days without a meltdown (or fit as I've been referring to them). This morning I put a really good finger on why its scaring me. There isn't a safe place on the boat where I can have a fit. There isn't a guarenteed environment where I can just let go without worrying about being judged. This usually happens at home (sorry Nick) where I feel safe and know I won't be judged. I know he understands even if he doesn't understand why it's happening. And while Nick is going to be there, there are also going to be a lot of other people there also. And the boat is going to be a fairly small confine. I don't know how to change the boat into a safe place.

I hate feeling like a bomb that is just waiting to go off. And you never know how much longer is on the timer until it starts to detinate.

Mood Update: Yesterday and today: Completely depressed. Today possibly worse than yesterday.

Councilling update: First appointment: Sep26. Its a little way off but it will come quick. Just don't word it as "6 weeks away".

Med update: I don't know if they are working. I feel like I'm cycling quicker than ever. My doctors appointment is Thursday. We need to have a serious look at them. I just want to be stable. Any improvement would be huge at this point.

Help has arrived

I finally figured out the councilling thing. And the best news: It is going to be covered by my Alberta Health Care because I have an official diagnosis.

This morning I finally got up the courage and I called the Bipolar Education Group that is put on by Capital Health. The nice lady there told me about the other programs that are available because that group doesn't start up again until Oct.
There is a support group run out of the Grey Nuns.
She also gave me the number for Alberta Mental Health's Intake Unit. So I called them and talked to Heather. We did a short interview over the phone and she will have a therapist call me in a week or two to set up my initial appointment.

Woo Hoo. Finally, after so much searching, I'm finally going to get the help that I need.

And I'm going to take all of this info to my doctor so that she has it for the next person who needs it because she didn't have any answers for me when I asked what resources were available. Every GP should at least know where to refer their patients when they do need help.

The next day

Last night, on my way home from work, I remembered what I wanted to write about when I walked across the office and lost it. I wanted to right that I put my credit card away. It's in the box on top of my dresser. But it's not in my wallet. That means that I'm going to achieve a lot less impulse spending. As of late I've been spending as much as I can put on my credit card. Being me is so expensive sometimes.

I went home and played on the computer for a little while and then made supper, singing and bouncing the entire time. I kept getting little clippets of songs in my head. We went to Rose's gallery opening. That was so hard. I had to try so hard to be serious. I felt so caged. Stuff me in a box and tell me to be good. And they kept trying to introduce me to people. I just pretended I was shy even though I wanted to talk their ears off. In pretending I was shy, I managed not to say anything out of the ordinary to anybody I didn't know fairly well. It went okay. But after being there for a little over an hour, I was starting to rock on my feet and just about bounce. Nick finally decided we should take off. It was like stretching after being crunched up for too long. It took a little while. I felt so muted. And then off I went. I went home and played on the computer. I was reluctant to turn on Sims because I knew I should go to bed soon. So I played around, instead, on the internet. I might as well turned on Sims because I was on the computer till almost 1AM. Then I decided that it really should be bed time. I layed there. I had so much energy that my muscles were nearly twitching. I knew that I needed to relax. So I went for a bath and read my book. I finally got to sleep at about 2:30. And it was the worst sleep. I woke up so many times. Mostly because Nick wasn't sleeping well and everytime he turned, he moved the blankets around and let the cold air in at me. Then I would wake up to kick the blanket back into place. When I wasn't awake, I was dreaming. Then at 6:30 this morning, AWAKE! And I could have jumped out of bed if Sam hadn't been blocking my way.

I'm feeling much calmer today. I don't feel remotely sleep deprived. I still have tons of energy. I just don't have the increadable urge to skip down the hall. But I think that's building. I'm starting to sing along with the radio. I'm increadably hungry today. My stomach just wants more, more, more. We'll just wait and see. I'll let you know how it goes.

To be noted

I know I need to manage to sit still long enough to be able to document this.

I'm grinning. Nothing matters. I want to laugh. I want to snicker. I want to skip down the hall. I can't read unless I really force myself. And then I need to do it like I'm part of some secret plot. I'm singing along with the radio. I'm dancing at my desk. I would get up and skip around my cubicle if somebody wouldn't look at me funny. Actually, I don't know if I would care if somebody would look at me funny.

I've been jumpy for the last few days. But not like this. My thoughts are coming so fast that I can't really grasp any of them. I'm not pressured yet.

This morning walking to work, I thought "Today is going to get nice because I'm smiling". Note to self: the weather is utterly independent of my mood.

Wow, I'm using the backspace button a lot. My fingers aren't behaving really well.

Irene, a lady I work with, just interrupted me and now I have no clue what I was talking about. Gone. Whoosh.

I want to call Jenn. No reason or purpose. Just to call. I don't even know what I would say. I can't hold onto anything long enough to decide what to talk about.

This is like the other night, I'm not sure which one it was, maybe monday evening. I couldn't decide what to do. I wanted to read 4 books. I wanted to play sims. I wanted to cross stitch. And I wanted to do it all at once. Nick keep suggesting things and I just wanted to do more and more. I felt like I was going to burst from being pulled in too many directions. I figured since I wanted to read so many books (mostly because they were new and the covers were pretty) that I should read. Rather than starting a new book, I picked up the one that I have been reading for a little while. I went for a bath. They are so calming. I was okay. I went to bed after that.

PS. I had the most terrible migrain yesterday. It really started Tuesday night. It was so bad that I couldn't open my eyes, have the window open (street traffic) or move. My brain felt like it was bouncing against my skull every time I moved. It's all kind of funny because your brain doesn't actually have any pain receptors in it, no matter how bad it hurts sometimes.

I would never be able to hand write this. My pen can't move that fast. And now I feel like I can't stop typing. It's nice to see my thoughts flowing across the computer screen instead of just bouncing around inside my head.

I have a doctors a pointment next week. I should take this entry with me. I think she will want to know that I'm currently manic. Possibly more pronounced form of mania than I have ever experienced before and it feels fantastic. I need a project. I have so much energy.

Tonight is Rose's (nick's cousin) gallery openning at the uofa hospital art gallery. All of Nick's family is going to be there. I'm going to make a fool of myself. I'll have to tell you about it tomorrow.

I had something else I wanted to talk about. I walked across the office to put a file in its spot. When I came back, I have no clue. This is like this morning, I thought of something that I need to remember to pack for houseboating when I was in the bathroom. I got back to my desk and gone. I still think that I haven't think of it again. I wish I could remember what I wanted to talk to you about. :-( <--- Tee Hee. He has a nose. I had to go back and put it in.

Woo Hoo. 10 More mins and work is done!

It's a good thing I can bite my tounge. My boss was looking at a piece of paper and asked "who is so&so?" I almost declared "somebody who thinks she is special". But I bit my tounge and went and danced in the copy/file room instead.
I work in a correspondce unit for the government. People write in and we answer their letters. More correct: We tell people under us to answer the letter. We just send it through to the right area. We get more than a few quack jobs who write in. She is one of them. She wants to violate and adoptive family's rights of choosing who gets to interact with thier child just because she is the biological grandmother. There isn't nothing that garantees that blood says you get to see the child. Only the legal parents can choose that. You're own blood children can choose not to let you into the childs life. You can try for a court order but those are usually only granted in exceptional circumstances.

Still 5 more mins. I'm going to shut down now. And pack up early. And go home. I get to go see my kitties. Sam will attack me and Marissa will run. The sheer energy bouncing off of me is going to scare her.

Why does it feel so good to be joyfully manic? For those who don't know there is also irratible manic. That's usually what I get. This is the first time I got giddy manic. I enjoy it. I want to play Sims.

Its been a long time since I got talked about in a washroom while I was present

We finally went and saw the new Harry Potter movie last night. Yet again, another very well done movie.

These 4 teenage girls sat behind us. The kind where you know that you are in for chatting during the movie. A couple of times during the movie, I ended up looking back at them because they were talking and giggling. After the movie, they saw me come into the washroom. While I was in the stall, one said something to the effect of "... and she turned and looked at us so many times. Even if we just giggled...". My only thought was "And one day, you too will grow up". These girls totally reminded me of KEG. (If you know who that group of girls was in high school, you'll know what I'm talking about. If you don't, there are air headed prissies in every high school.)

Friday night, we went out for supper with Jenn, Joce, and Owen. They brought me a card and the most beautiful roses. Thanks guys.

The Man that I Need is the One that I Have

I'm not going to take back what I said about Nick. This is a journal of my thoughts and feelings and at that moment, that was the truth at that moment. I am going to say I wish that the chaos would shut up, go away and leave me alone. I don't want to play anymore. I hate that I can't control it and I can't tell what is really happening. My lack of any accurate perception of reality leads me to say things that hurt people. In just over a week, I've gone after both Jenn and Nick. These are people who I love and who love me. Yet the chaos makes me doubt them.

I love Nick even if I have to work a little bit harder to keep the house organized (that part was true). I'm hoping that I have the rest of my life to teach him to be able to pick up after himself.

We've reached a vital point where everybody around me is seeing that I need professional help. And I want professional help. I don't want to feel like this for the rest of my life. I need to learn how to live with this disease. It's not going to go away. I've accepted that.
Jenn has started to advocate for me, or at least point me in the right direction. I know that I need to be the one to call in order to get the process started. In under 24 hours she has provided me with multiple leads. Now I just need to buck up and get on the phone. And I'm terrified. I don't know why but lately the idea of calling somebody I don't know, even if I have a really good reason to do it, terrifies me. I've been putting everything off until the very last minute. Until I absolutely have to do it.
I'm so scared that I won't be able to find the help that I need. I know that I need to do this. I know I do. I hate this uncontrollable, unreasonable fear. The worst that could happen is that they say that they can't help. Maybe they would even point me in the next direction. Maybe not. I know that trying can't hurt. But I'm terrified. Maybe I could start this process by email. I can email without fear or meet somebody face to face. But to call them is paralyzing. I wish it wasn't.

Now that I've talked that in a complete circle, I'm going to see what I can find online. Wish me luck and remember, this is a start. Until I gain some confidence or reach a road block that says I have to call.

The Man that I Need

I don't know what else to do. I don't know how else to word it. I can't seem to get through to him. I can't seem to make a difference or make him actually listen to what I need to say.

I need him to spend time with me.
Every day he comes home from work. He may sit with me for a minute. Then he goes to the office to play on his computer and I don't see him again for the rest of the evening. I go to bed. He goes to bed. He falls right asleep and we don't have pillow talk. We do eat dinner together but if I'm not finished when he is, he just wants to get up and run away to the office. Not sit with me while I finish.

He can't manage simple cleaning chores.
When he does the dishes, he can't wipe off all of the counters, stove, and table and quite often he doesn't clean out the sink when he's done. A lot of the dishes aren't clean either and I end up having to rewash them.
When I ask him to clean the bathroom, it takes 2-4 weeks for it to happen even though it really needs to happen within a few days of when I asked. And then he does a half ass job. There is still dirt in there that I can wipe away with my finger. The garbage is never empty. The base of the toilet is never cleaned. And the floor is never washed.
If I ask him to clean the kitchen (take the stove apart and clean it, spot wash the cabinets, give the microwave a good wiping,...)... I've only asked him to do this once since we moved in here. And a month an a half later, I did it. It got to the point that I was worried about the food that was being prepared in that kitchen.
There is a trail that goes through my house. He'll pick something up, think of something else, go to retrieve that, put thing 1 in thing 2's spot and never go back to put thing 1 in it's own spot. Nothing has a home with him. There is stuff everywhere and if I don't stay on top of it for a few days, it takes me quite a while to straiten stuff up. There are lots of times when I can't find something that I'm looking for because he never put it away.

He doesn't respond when I talk.
If we're talking about something deeper than what happened that day, he will shut down when I talk to him. I'll tell him that something is making me feel some way and I'll be met with a blank stare if I'm not ignored all together.

I feel like a monster and a maid. He doesn't want to spend time with me or listen to me when I have something to say. If I wasn't here, he would live in a pig sty and never know where anything is!

He's the man I want to marry. Aside from the above faults, he's everything I wished for in my life partner. And some of the above faults (he really is a slob) is just lately and hasn't been forever. In other words, they are stuff that can be worked on and worked out.
But I don't feel like he wants to marry me. I don't feel like he's ever going to ask. I know we said that we would wait until after we were done school (another 5 years away) but I don't have any reassurance that it is actually going to happen.
I'm worried that we are going to move to Calgary (for any who don't know, I'm going there for him. I could do my schooling here but the program that he wants to take is offered in Calgary and on the East coast) and then he's going to change his mind and leave me. I've shown my commitment by saying that I'm going to follow him half way across the province but he hasn't offered me anything that shows his commitment.

I don't know what else to do. I don't know what else to say.

Now, on to a funeral.
Great way to start a rough day, eh?