Category Archives: Moods

A Resolution – Finally

I felt alone. It seemed everyone around me wanted me to continue with ECT. Yet it’s my decision. It’s my body. I live with the illness – and it’s consequences. I live with the treatments and the symptoms of anxiety they cause in me. Here is what I decided after several conversations with my therapist, my psychiatrist, the ECT team, and my mom. I even read medical journal articles.

I want my life back. I want the anxiety I’ve been living with to be back to reasonable levels that I know how to live with. My mood has been stable and my psychiatrist expects it to stay that way. I hope he is right! I’d like to learn how to live with a mood that experiences many emotions without dropping or accelerating into a mood state.

I decided NOT to do ECT anymore. I want to try medications again if my mood becomes depressed or manic again, or if I become suicidal. I have to get the port in my chest removed again since I no longer want to do ECT. (The port was used to access a vein so that nurses didn’t have to try multiple times per treatment to create an IV.) ECT has been helpful for getting my mood to baseline, and perhaps it would help in the future too. I’m just not sure, I don’t like the reaction I have to treatments (days of anxiety), and I’d rather work with pills. ECT had been a last resort when I started it last fall, and resumed it this spring and summer. I just don’t think it has to be my Go-To treatment method anymore.

I will be super vigilant about routine, schedule, taking meds, nutrition, exercise, coping skills, and sociability as I try to maintain a stable mood with these things that have Not proven to work before. But I will do what is personally in my power to care for my multiple mental illnesses. I will work with my psychiatrist for meds and therapist for coping and exploration as needed. I will reach out to others for support on a regular basis. So don’t be surprised if I contact YOU!

I’m taking my life back.

How Best to Take Care of Myself

Anxiety has been my constant companion at an elevated state since the f*** up at ECT nearly 10 days ago. If my anxiety was at a 9 last week at therapy, it was an 8 this week. Ooooo – totally getting better. Not. I cried through most of the session again this week. And off and on the rest of the day afterward.

This is what I am holding on to. My therapist reminded me that it is my decision whether or not to have ECT. I have been through trauma related to the anesthesia of ECT that I keep reliving every.single.day multiple.times.a.day. Leading to panic and anxiety going up and down all the time. I no longer feel safe in my home or alone. The anxiety is waiting to get me, sometimes as an anxiety attack or as people or things waiting to jump out at me. While ECT has helped my mood like no drug ever did – I found baseline for me! – it has now ruined my life, in my mind. I might be exaggerating, yet I’m miserable now.

Before my next treatment, I have a second opinion appointment which is designed to see if ECT is helping and still beneficial for me. I promised my therapist and mom, I will tell him everything, from how much better my mood is, to the plan to do maintenance treatments so the results last longer, and now how the anxiety from the anesthesia gaff has traumatized me and the anxiety is nearly unbearable.

While I want the decision from me and the second opinion dr to be to stop ECT, I will keep an open mind. Maybe I need to stop for now so the anxiety can subside. Maybe I would need to start up again in the future. Maybe I will ever do it again, and will play pharmaceutical roulette with my psychiatrist if I need it. I just know I Need To Take Care Of Myself. And I’m holding on to ECT being OVER.

Living with Bipolar, Even When Things Are Good

Well, it’s been a month since I posted! Wow! The good news is that I haven’t had something so pressing, so bothering me, that I needed to write it out and get feedback. ECT is slowing down a bit as we move into maintenance of a stable mood instead of treatment for depression and suicidality. Again, good news! My mood is stable and good – happy even. I want to stop doing ECT because it makes me anxious, but the last time I stopped when I was feeling good, I only had a few months of a good mood. And I’d like to have longer – hence, doing maintenance (once a month ECT for a while).

During this good, happy, stable mood period, I’ve been working on motivation by   exercising in the pool some, taking a short personal enrichment class online, reading a bit more, and working on becoming conversant in Spanish instead of just a reader of Spanish who needs a vocabulary lesson or two. Hooray for me! And yet I still watch way too much tv and have little to do and feel so very unmotivated. I’m giving myself credit for all that I am doing though, and for using my support system to help me with all of it.

Then there’s the anxiety I struggle with. I’ve cancelled get togethers or not gone to my support group because of anxiety. I’m trying to get help with living with the anxiety from my therapist and my mom. I’ve struggled to commit to a self-enrichment class (online) that lasts for 8 weeks because of anxiety about whether it was too much for me to accomplish at this time in my life. I finally came to some peace about it and committed to it. I think it will help me A Lot with finding joy and peace and motivation.

Then there’s the ongoing anxiety concerning the community college chemistry classes I signed up for – and paid a pretty penny for. Back when I was feeling good in January and February, I applied to the local community college, signed up for a summer class (which I ultimately dropped because the syllabus was boring), and signed up for fall and spring’s chemistry 1 and 2 with lab. I was trusting myself that my brain could learn again (there’s been some question) and remember things in order to learn again, and that I could handle the schedule of driving, class time, and lab right after class too.

In reality, I have anxiety about all of this, ongoing, that I have to talk myself out of, that this week became almost debilitating. And then in April I had a huge setback with my mood so that I was hospitalized and started ECT again. NOW I’m feeling better and stable again (yay!) but still anxious about these dang chemistry classes!

Long Story Short: I found science classes on Coursera.org – for free! – that started this week where I will get short lectures, readings, occasional quizzes, and discussion opportunities. I get the chance to study chemistry, etc. – with professors – at home. Anxiety drastically lessened as pressure on schedule, brain ability, and even pocketbook was reduced. So I dropped the community college classes and await my refund – and come to terms with how mental illness has yet again changed my plans, and I am again taking care of myself to avoid problems later. Maybe when I’ve been stable for longer, and maybe anxiety isn’t triggered by stress so easily, I can take traditional classes, if that’s a path I want to take in the future (cough, cough – my dream of a ph.d).

 

A Setback

Yesterday I had ECT a few days earlier than the planned two weeks’ spread. I was a work-in appointment, so of course I went last and didn’t have breakfast until 3:45pm. Oh well??

I was experiencing fear and paranoia about the dark, about people jumping out at me, and even about my cat attacking me. I didn’t feel like I was managing very well. And I started having more suicidal thoughts too. Ugh. The doctors and I wondered how much was the psychotropic med I had injected on Friday. My mom remembers my having a problem after the shot last month. Hmmm…

Today, after yesterday’s ECT, I feel like I’m coping and managing better, though these fears are still present, just not so dominant. I’m feeling more myself again.

Gotta love bipolar, huh?

Self Care – Hospital and ECT

I was in the hospital the first three weeks of April after my last post. I took care of myself by going in the hospital to be kept safe from my suicidal impulses and to start ECT again. As a common meme says, “It’s ok to ask for help. It’s ok to start again. It’s ok to say no. It’s ok to rest. It’s ok to let go. It’s ok not to be ok.” Going in the hospital and starting ECT again was telling myself it’s ok not to be ok, and it’s ok to rest and to start over again. Having had success with ECT at the end of 2018, my psychiatrist recommended a course of it again including maintenance to hopefully prevent a mood crash again after only a couple months of stability.

Now I am out of the hospital, adjusting to life without suicidal thoughts, and have had 13 treatments. My mood is holding steady between treatments and suicidal thoughts are drastically reduced. I can’t say I’m feeling as good as I had been after the last course of ECT. But I did just go from ECT 3x/week to ECT 2x/week. I’m staying the course by keeping up treatments even though I don’t really want to do ECT. Something about it just weirds me out. But I really want the experience of feeling good for an extended period of time, and ECT seems to be the main treatment that leads there.

I continue talking with my therapist over the phone on Fridays. And my mom is my companion for ECT, driving into the city and then keeping watch over me as I recover. I’m able to reach out to these thick branches of my support system, as well as some smaller limbs too, as I try to feel not alone. I wish I felt good and strong and happy again, but at this point I at least have hope that it will happen again as ECT continues.

Clearing Out Storage

As many of you know, I moved from Chicago to Dallas a little over a year ago in order to live with family instead of alone. It tore me up inside to leave all the people who cared for me (psychiatrist, therapists, pastor), all the friends who loved me, all the sites and people who were part of my adopted hometown (Chicago was longest I lived in one metro area as an adult), and even my hair stylist. I ended up in a partial day program to help regulate my life and schedule and emotions, which ended up in a horrible hospitalization, as I tried to settle in to my new home.

Now for the last month I’ve been making my room more my own with stuff from my storage unit. I kept everything from a couch and bed to kitchen supplies and decor for a one-bedroom apartment or for sharing a house. For the first six months of being in Dallas, I expected I would move out of the family’s house. For the next 3 months I was focused on another hospitalization and then ECT. For the last 3 months I have been coming to terms with the newly-realized fact that I cannot live alone. I need to live with family, or at least a housemate. (I am lucky with all that is handled for me right now living with family! Things like sharing cleaning and cooking so that I’m doing much, much less than when living alone.)

The next step, after being ok with not ever living alone again, is deciding where I should live. Do I look for a place to live AND a housemate? If so, back in Chicago, out in CA (where I feel at home, having lived my first 30 years there), or even in the Pacific Northwest, so that maybe I’d have a support system or not move again if I’m in a place I want to settle? Or do I stay near family, but in my own place with a housemate? Or stay With family, as I am now? I have defaulted to living With family and trying to notice the plus sides and mitigate the downsides. The worst part is that we have very different values, such that we cannot even mention or talk about religion, politics or other things that are important to us.

So, I’ve kind of decided to live with family and make the best of it. This is really hard, because even if I didn’t live with them, I would want to share my life changes and activities with them. Though I could still move out to a place I’d rather live than <anywhere in Texas>, I am throwing my lot in with family and where they live so that I can have the trade-offs. OMG. What am I thinking? This is a huge decision that I can’t really get my mind around. But I’m acting As If I’ve made the decision, as various therapies tell you to do, to keep from being frozen. I’m moving into the future.

So, the next step is what to do about all my stuff in storage. There are more things I could unpack and take to the house to personalize my living space and update my kitchen supplies. So I’m doing that. And the rest? (1) There is stuff such as keepsakes and pictures (before the digital age, kids) that, of course, I need to store somewhere. My family has turned one room into storage for all of our stuff, so I’m schlepping stuff upstairs every time I go up. (2) There is stuff that I would use for my life in an apartment or house shared with someone else. With a great deal of effort I could unpack, photograph it and put on an app to sell it. OR, I could donate the mostly really nice stuff for the kitchen and the used furniture I got from thrift stores myself (and kept in good condition!). I have decided to donate everything, even the really good kitchen stuff. It’s a way to make room for the future by getting rid of the past, I think.


All of this has been happening in the last couple weeks as the spring equinox and related seasonal changes have been wreaking havoc on my mood. So even if my mood is stabilizing a little bit now, my emotions are All.Over.The.Place. There is specific grief over items I am saying goodbye to. There is general grief about deciding to stay in TX and to live with family. There is fear about an unknown and uncomfortable future that I’m walking into, and that I’m letting other people have some control over. Sadness. Relief. Anxiety. Hopefulness. Resignation.

I think the gamut of feelings cycling through my body, as well as the thoughts about everything in my life circling without stopping on one, is contributing to my suicidality. I almost did something yesterday a couple times, but I moved forward and made a different decision. I’m both happy and mad about not doing anything. Just writing about the feelings is causing pain in my chest, labored breathing, heart palpitations – anxiety. And the desire to die and put an end to all of it becomes strong. It’s as though it is the first coping skill that comes up. It’s not a good coping skill, but it’s the strongest and longest-lasting. I have people to talk to, including my psychiatrist and therapist, and I have all the crisis numbers too.

Suicidality

I am not suicidal and I have all the hotlines on speed dial.

But there are guns in the house I live in. They are locked up, and I don’t even know where the safes are. I only have access to a few days’ worth of my meds, and the rest are hidden away until Saturdays when I refill my pill boxes. But other people’s meds are out in the house where I could have access to them. Knives and sharps are not locked up.

All these facts go through my head as I try to convince myself I am in control, and suicide is just a thought.

But it’s not just a thought. It’s also the feeling of wanting death and nothingness and unconsciousness, not just so the pain will stop but also because it seems like the time has come for my life to end. Suicidal feelings are Munch’s “The Scream” – silent, yet horrific, as they tear through the deepest part of you. You are a bottomless pit of dark, dark, dark feelings that spiral down, a corkscrew that drives deeper and deeper into the center of you.

Suicidality includes the impulses to use various items against myself that roll through me like ocean waves, or that jolt me like electricity. The impulses usually include visions of me hurting and killing myself in multiple ways.

I’m ashamed of having these feelings, impulses and thoughts. When I’m not consumed by them. In the moment, they take over and are the only things I experience. Sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, thoughts do not exist, only suicidal thoughts, feelings, and impulses. As these become less intense – and they do! – I begin to feel shame and guilt, as though I want these suicidal experiences.

And then, if I am able to feel something else, I start to feel fear, and anxiety ramps up. So, from being overwhelmed by suicide’s thoughts and feelings, I first feel shame, guilt, fear and anxiety. How awful! And from this head- and feeling-space I then question myself: Who am I, that I seem to be consumed by thoughts of death and of killing myself? Who am I, that I come under suicide’s power and don’t even take in other stimuli? And why do I think/feel constantly that my life will end early, most likely at my own hand too?

Suicidality as I experience it is this horrible, horrible, awful experience that pulses through my every day. Some days the experience is less overwhelming and only lasts a few seconds and then passes. Most days the waves of feelings last for several minutes each hour. How can I keep living this way? Why is there no treatment for suicidality?