Friendship

I was sorting through some paperwork from support group meetings and I found something I had written about myself to share with the group during one of our "getting to know you" meetings this summer. I thought I could share it here in the blog for others.


One thing people may or may not know about me is that I'm good at making friends but bad at keeping them.

For many reasons:
I self-isolate during depressive episodes, I am edgy at times/have mood swings, I'm very sensitive, it's hard for me to accept when a friend and I disagree, I hate not spending time with friends but I'm often so busy that I don't get to spend time with them.

I've always been a loner - I'm very publicly friendly and caring, but I'm "hard to handle" in intimate settings. I believe this is partially due to the early sexual, emotional, and physical abuse I suffered.

But I'm very insistent upon becoming a "better person" and I refuse to believe that I am destined for any particular outcome simply because of my past.

I continue to seek my "path" in life by following my passions because I don't know what else to do/I have no other reason to live.

My passions are helping people, becoming a better person, knowing myself, loving others, raising a caring/loving son, being that one person that others can depend on.


I'm sure I'm not the only one out there that finds it hard to make and/or keep friends. Even if it's difficult or painful, it pays to have a support network - a group of people that care about your well-being, who will be there to listen when you need to talk. Even though most of my "friends" don't acknowledge me anymore, don't invite me to hang out anymore, and rarely if ever call/text me anymore, I still consider myself as one of their friends because I am willing to be there for them. I just hope that other people see that in me as well. I'd like to believe I've been there for a few people when they felt like nobody else was there.

Aside from people I refer to as "friends," I do have a group of people I can count on to be there when I need them - my DBSA support group members - who are more than friends, they are actually more like family to me. I cannot express how valuable it can be to have a close relationship with someone who understands your troubles on a personal level. From year to year, the person I'm close with may change, but that doesn't take away from what it means to me just to be able to call someone and talk about what I'm going through without the risk of being judged.

Support groups offer a special kind of friendship and shared burden that regular friendships do not. First of all, there are less expectations. Forget a birthday? No big deal. Secondly, there is mutual confidentiality. Secrets are kept secret, without even being asked to do so. Third, your support group friends expect you to talk about your problems, they know that even at your best you are still struggling with some inner battle and they never overlook your persistence in being well. Lastly, when you are going through a rough patch, your support group friends understand that you can't be there for them - or anyone - at this point in time. They do not hold a grudge against you or expect you to move mountains for them when you are also in need. Support group members find strength in each other's weaknesses and we understand that each of us is human and capable of disappointing. We do not see this as a sin against us or a wrong that has been done, but a normal part of life and an expected happening on the path of recovery.

If you are suffering with a mental illness, I urge you to become part of a support group! There are hundreds to be found, for almost anything you can imagine. Support groups are far better than just "making friends" and I assure you that as you find yourself able to be vulnerable with a person who was once a stranger, and reveal to them what troubles you, that "stranger" will stretch to you a hand of friendship and strength that no other acquaintance can give. So reach out!

A new medicine

It is pretty widely known that bipolar disorder comes with a few specific characteristics and situations. One being the battle to find the right med regimen. Most psychiatrists would agree that their chief complaint (regarding BP) is that a person with bipolar disorder starts a med and goes off the med shortly after, sometimes without good reason but almost always AMA (against medical advice). Thus, making it rather difficult to find the right med regimen for the individual.

I do not mean to question the authority of psychiatrists in general, but I do want to make one thing very clear: not all of us with bipolar disorder make these decisions rashly or without reason - some of us have DAMN GOOD reasons to stop taking our meds. I wish that psychiatrists were trained to "listen" to patients as well as psychologists are trained to do. This could prevent a lot of unethical treatment of persons with bipolar disorder and, I assume, other mental disorders.

As for me, I've mentioned previously in my blog that this is the first time to try meds since roughly 2005. In the past, I "forfeited" psychiatric care because the psychologist refused to meet with me for psychotherapy as long as I refused to take the meds the psychiatrist prescribed. NEVER was there a time when the professionals asked me WHY I felt so strongly about the med regimen forced upon me, nor did they try other methods (solely meds and psychotherapy). All that seemed to matter was that I was not med-compliant which somehow translated to be that I was dangerously unstable. I find it very hard to believe that going off meds posed an immediate danger to my psychologist...

I went 7 long years without being medicated, utilizing complementary and alternative means to manage my bipolar disorder and all without the help of a trained professional. It hasn't been easy, but I've had no other options! I do attribute much of my success to the free, peer-led DBSA support group, Possibilities, which I found in 2005. There were no other resources I could find that would help me after North Central turned me away. I walked a very lonely road in my recovery and found opposition at every corner... all because I wanted to go off the meds that were making me want to/attempt to kill myself.

What most people don't know is how I reacted to all of the different meds the doctors tried. I struggled through an anguishing journey of self-loathing and self-mutilation, deep depression and suicidal ideation. Self-medicating with alcohol, which doesn't mix well with drugs, because I didn't understand what was happening to me or why it was happening. Nobody attempted to teach me about my disorder, everyone looked upon me with judgmental eyes. I never made my feelings about that known to the professionals because they would just tell me it's another symptom of bipolar disorder... so why bother? I wasn't encouraged to talk about what I wanted for my recovery, I was only encouraged to talk about what happened in my past - which gave me horrible nightmares and flashbacks that caused so much trauma and further pain. No one tried to help me manage the pain or work through it logically... they just wanted to find out if the medicine was working to make me behave in an acceptable manner. I couldn't function on the meds, I had no self-control. I wasn't living... I was merely surviving... BARELY. I tried to request a new counselor but they wouldn't allow it for one reason or another.

New to bipolar disorder, I sought answers that nobody could give me, and I desperately wanted an end to the "madness" I was feeling. I attempted suicide 8 times that I can remember... I decided to go off the medicine because I became so afraid that I would try to take my own life again. On the meds, I couldn't think for myself, I wasn't in control of my thoughts or behaviors. It felt like someone else had taken over... all I could feel was sadness or numbness, nothing else. I wanted to give myself a chance to THINK and WORK THROUGH my depressive episodes, so I took a chance, I went off meds even though it cost me helpful treatment options and I started to learn coping mechanisms that the psychologists never offered me. I learned cognitive behavioral therapy, dialectical behavior therapy, stress reduction, relaxation techniques, and other helpful tools for recovery. In college, I took up Psychology as my major and learned about abnormal psych and specific conditions. I researched pathophysiology and neuroscience that links psychology to (mostly Freudian) theories about personality and habituation. I did what most professionals didn't think was possible for me to do - discovered for myself what works and doesn't work in my own recovery.

I have come to a point in my life where I am weary of trying so hard to maintain a sense of balance. I now realize that I am constantly at war in my head, with thoughts of a very negative and even morbid nature, images that haunt me from my past, fear of what could happen, and ideas of death that scare me into wanting to try pharmacotherapy again.

So, I have sought the help of a new doctor and tried a new med regimen recently, which I had to "go off" again because of the recent, severe suicidal ideation (again!). I bet you're not surprised...

I so desperately want to live and I mean I want to LIVE - be an active part of society again, make my own decisions, be independent - like I had been striving to do these last few years. My life may not seem glamorous or desirable to most, but at least I'm working through it and toward a new beginning. I was working toward living independently, having a job, getting out on my own, building a supportive network. What I have built so far isn't much, but it was good enough for me... until recently. Now, I have suddenly lost all sense of purpose and achievement. I have lost all motivation, I have no drive to continue. Since I talked about my apprehensions and concerns in my last post, I won't go into anymore detail.

Last week, I started a new medicine: Amitriptyline. Nasty side effects - irritability, nausea, diarrhea, dizziness, blurred vision. It's supposed to help me sleep but my experience so far is that it doesn't sedate me as much as I'd like, it still takes me 2 or more hours to feel sleepy and I wake up all throughout the night and have difficulty falling back asleep. It's an antidepressant so it should help with some of my other unwanted symptoms of depression, too. We will see... I'm giving it some time to see if it works well, once my body gets used to it. I honestly hope it does work. Stay tuned...

This doesn't make sense to me

8 weeks ago, I was on top of the world.... very busy, but feeling quite satisfied with my life. Now in the nursing program, and doing well at it, in a thriving relationship, and having family support. I truly felt that even though my life wasn't where I wanted it to be just yet, I was fulfilled. I felt content, even happy.

Suddenly, without any signs or symptoms, I fell into a depressive episode. At first, I knew it wasn't as bad as it could get so I wanted to prevent it from getting any worse. I started reading some books about recovery and even the Wellness Recovery Action Plan (WRAP) and considered putting one of my own together "just in case" things got worse. Of course, after realizing how much work that would be on top of my studying and other obligations, I set that idea aside for another time... regrettably so.

Today, I find myself 8 weeks into a deeper depression than I've experienced in YEARS. My daily struggles differ... some days I struggle to just get out of bed, other days I manage to do that but can't go out in public because I'm too weepy. I cry at almost anything. There is plenty going on in the news to make me tear up and cry when my own thoughts aren't horrible enough. But the majority of the time I cry, it's because I hate the thoughts that come into my mind. Thoughts of dying, not having to live through this depression. I cry because as much as I want my life to end, I know that this feeling will eventually go away - or at least I hope it will - and I just need to hang on until the tide changes... but it's so painful, it's like torture to me to continue living through this.

I realize that very few can identify with this phenomenon. I have everything I wanted 1 year ago today. I'm preparing for my upcoming wedding to the man of my dreams, who deserves to be honored for his support during my weakest times such as these. I completed the first 1/4 of my nursing education and am only 1 and 1/2 years away from a new career. I don't - off the top of my head - think of anything that could have triggered this depression for me. I am confounded and even a little angry. Why me? I know all the tricks and I help other people get through their depression, I teach other people coping mechanisms - that I do employ myself - so this should be easy for me. If I cannot think my way out of it, what hope is there for me?

And that's it. I guess I feel hopeless. Will it end? Will I go back to being myself eventually? I guess I've had longer depressive episodes before, lasting months... but I don't want that to happen now. I can't imagine starting back up at school in January and having to deal with these feelings while trying to attend school full-time... in my mental health rotation, of all things. How am I going to learn to help others with mental illness as a nurse if I go into my education in that arena having a mental health crisis of my own?

I worry a lot. I find myself having panic attacks in the middle of the night, waking up in a confused, depressed state. I cry.... a lot. And I don't want anyone to see that. Because it's not who I normally am. I think about death and dying all the time. I want to die... all the time. The only excuse I can find to keep suffering through and holding on for the mood change is that I have a beautiful 10-year-old boy who would be left without a mother if I were dead. Sometimes I think the other reason I have to hold on is because I make that last statement known to other people... like some form of accountability comes from voicing my feeling of wanting to die. I do share my thoughts with others and I have to commend the few people who - in one way or another - reached out to me because they KNOW I'm not myself right now. I keep trying new things to change my situation. I haven't given up... yet.

I cry... and I cry... and I cry. It feels like an endless hell and nobody can feel it but me. What hurts the most is that I can't find a reason why I feel this way. There is no reason. I keep telling people that... if there was a reason, I could probably fix this and feel better. But there is no reason... I can't fix it... I'm just literally WAITING until it passes. And I'm growing SO TIRED of waiting. Sometimes it seems like that's all I ever do in life... wait. I'm not a very patient person but I think I've proven myself otherwise with how much I've waited for what I wanted in the past. It took over 3 years to be able to have a face-to-face conversation with the love of my life. That's a long time. Some people can't wait an hour... I had to wait more than 3 years!! And even though we are engaged to be married, it will be over a year before we live under the same roof. I feel like I'm going to go crazy before it finally happens. I worry about the wedding, about school, about where we will live, finding a job when I graduate... and so many other day-to-day things. I keep telling myself... these are just thoughts and a thought can be changed.

I really believed that talking about it would make me feel better. After all, that's why I finally convinced myself to blog about it. I think it keeps me real to any readers out there. I am diagnosed with bipolar disorder, after all, so I'm expected to have these undulations of mood. I've been blessed so far in the last 3 years with having mostly manic episodes which are productive, mostly happy, and VERY APPEALING compared to THIS, whatever this is that I'm experiencing now.

Christmas is less than 5 days away. Usually, my mood starts to suffer in mid-November and the depression peaks for me around Valentine's day then starts to pick-up around St. Patrick's day. And even though depression is a norm for me this time of year, it's far worse this year than the last three. I'm not saying that it's the worst it could be, but it's the worst I've experienced in a while... and I really thought (like a fool) that it was because I was managing my moods the best I ever have since being diagnosed. I just don't get it... But I guess there are counselors and psychiatrists who also get diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder or Depression. I suppose I'm not the only person who thrived at life and then suddenly experienced a crisis.

I know life isn't fair and all of the other cute little anecdotes that people tell you to cheer you up when you're feeling down... but to tell you the truth, I really hate those cutesy little quotes. When people say those things, no matter how well-meaning they are - all I hear is "I can't possibly fathom how bad you feel right now but this is the best I can come up with." It's a waste of words, I guess. It doesn't make me feel any better... sometimes it makes me feel worse. I'd rather someone be really REAL with me and speak the truth. Maybe one day someone will surprise me and say "I have no idea what it's like for you right now, so there probably isn't much I can do to make you feel better." Instead of just thinking that and using it as a cop-out to just do nothing for me in my time of need.

I have so many thoughts that I cannot even blog about them all tonight. I'm just so weary... if you're reading this and you're a praying person, please pray for me. I do believe in prayers. I think it's the best thing anyone can do for me right now, because I can't even make sense of anything at this point. And if you do pray for me, please know that I'm not in a place to be thinking straight and I might not show my appreciation the way you want me to, but I DO appreciate you.