Where is my black and red boxing glove? How could I just find one? The other one has to be here somewhere. I bet my son’s friend took it. Yup, that little shit must have taken my boxing glove. Why just one though? It’s got to be here somewhere. God I have to train for that 1/2 marathon. I bet if I ran I wouldn’t gain weight with my meds. Ugh, I don’t want to gain weight. Yes, I should run. I haven’t even used my KT tape yet, ah! It’s only 3 months till the half marathon! Why haven’t I been training?! I should run to the gym, that’s about 5 miles, would I have to wear a backpack to bring my gear? What if I’m too tired to run back again after my workout? I suppose I could just walk or hitch a ride. Maybe I should run to hidden falls. How far is that? It’s 3.5 miles from Joeger, so about 3 miles from my road. Only 3 miles? Why don’t I ever go to hidden falls? I should run there. Is it going to be hot tomorrow? I thought I heard something about it cooling down. Why won’t my stupid printer work? I need to print my son’s homework. I should sleep. 2:22am? Yeah I should sleep. Isn’t 222 like a lucky number or something? No, I really should sleep. Maybe after I play a few moves in words with friends. But seriously though, where is that damned black glove?? I should have taken my meds, but my husband put them somewhere and I don’t know where. I should just dose myself with Benadryl or something. Crap. Out of Benadryl. I really should sleep… wait. What was that noise outside? Maybe it’s a skunk. Maybe it’s a raccoon killing my chickens. No the chickens would be making a noise. Okay. Sleep. Sleep sleep sleep sleep sheep sheep. I wonder if that’s why you count sheep? Sleep sheep sleep sheep. Ha! That’s witty! I crack myself up.
Man I wish I could find that black glove. It’s got to be here somewhere, probably the garage. My pink gloves look super lame. Uh! 3:45 am?? I should try to sleep. I can’t sleep. Matt’s snoring. It’s raining its pouring. I wish it would pour. I hope it rains buckets this winter, SNOW! I could go snowboarding. I bet it’s going to be an epic year. I can’t handle another shitty year on the slopes. Okay. I’m going to try and sleep for real this time, but after I find that glove. WTF it’s not anywhere!!! I need to just let it go. Let it go, let it go… shit, now that song is in my head. 5:00am!?! Okay. this time I’ll sleep for sure. Or not.
Struggling
My hellish weekend, from hell.
When a 10 year old boy calls you on your shit…
So this was the moment that changed everything…
I’m putting my 10 year old son to bed and we are listening to the radio. A commercial comes on for “Stop Stigma Sacramento”, it’s an organization that informs and educates people about mental illness.
My son turns to me and says,
“Mom, no offense and I don’t mean anything bad by this, but I think you might be mentally ill.”
Cue the tears from me.
“I’m just saying Mom, that you really seem depressed a lot of the time.”
Cue sobbing.
“Oh… please don’t cry Mom! It’s okay, really! My Doctor can help you (he’s seeing a psychiatrist to deal with his ADD with neurofeedback brain retraining). I know he can, look at how much he helped me.”
And that’s when I saw a psychiatrist.
All of these years I had been seeing physicians, being told I have S.A.D., being put on antidepressants, which made me want to commit suicide. Light boxes that never really worked, vitamin D which never truly fixed the problem. Finally being told that I’m bipolar made so much sense. All I can say is this: you don’t go to a dentist to fix a broken arm, why would you see a physician for mental illness issues?
PS- I have an exceptional son.
The chronicles of WTF
So, I recently had a manic episode, the kind that involves all the fun stuff like not sleeping, being paranoid, having anxiety attacks etc.
So my doctor put me on Seroquel (I’m currently on 200mg of Lamictal).
Let me just say that Seroquel is a special kind of hell. I knew from the get go that I did not like Seroquel. It made me groggy and wonky. As the week proceeded I got increasingly weepy, I couldn’t get through a workout without getting dizzy and wanting to puke.
By the end of the week I was so discouraged, hopeless and fueled by meds that didn’t agree with me, I was feeling pretty sure that suicide was probably the best medical option for me.
Commence husband calling psychiatrist.
Stop taking Seroquel.
Start suicide watch.
Start new meds.
Let’s try Fluoxetine Hcl and olanzapine.
Now let’s sleep for 24 hours straight and have both husband and son check to see if I’m still alive.
So I wake up, a little disconcerted that I’ve somehow lost a whole day; I ask my husband to bring me the meds, I’m curious about what they’ve put me on. I google olanzapine, okay… Zyprexa. I’ve never heard of it, so I read the side effects etc. Nothing I haven’t seen before.
I google Fluoxetine Hcl.
WTF. Prozac?! What F*cking part of “I can’t take SSRIs did she not understand??”
Granted she was apparently at the park with her kid when the emergency page came in from my husband, so my chart wasn’t right there, but seriously though, I’ve BEEN on Prozac before, it made me suicidal.
I hate everything about this.
*update: Zyprexa + Prozac= symbyax
Which works differently than prozac alone?
*sigh* we shall see.
Jamible the Bipolar Bear 