Mercy
Oops. I skipped a few days. This is a tumultuous time (obviously), so I'm taking it day by day. I am committed to writing 30 posts about my metal health journey. They may not all be in 30 consecutive days. So there.
I do want to give a brief synopsis of the last few days because I want to show the ups and downs of rapid-cycling bipolar for people who are unfamiliar. So here goes:
Friday: I needed to somehow find the energy to make it to the beach, and I have no idea how this is going to happen. After telling my parents about my latest melt down, they suggested a spontaneous get-a-way to their house on the bay. Our house was a mess, and I couldn't leave it that way because we had a house sitter coming over and there was moldy spaghetti in the fridge stinking up the house. How could I subject her to that? There were also so many toys on the floor that walking through the living room was risking injury. When I am in depressive episodes, the house gets this way. I can barely summon enough energy to feed and clothe myself and my daughter. Everything else goes to shit, pretty much. Laundry everywhere. Dishes pile up. Toys everywhere mixed with random bits of garbage from amazon packaging because I also try to cope with depression by buying anything online that I think might make my life with a toddler slightly easier. Depressed Ally will buy whatever quick-fix you are selling.
So, the house is a mess, I have no energy, and I feel the need to kick myself into hypomania to get through. I can do this sometimes. I did it in high school and college fairly often when deadlines presented. I can pull myself together to accomplish/survive pretty incredible things with this mechanism. However, the price I pay at the end can be severe (cue, depressive crash).
I decided to lower my standards instead of pushing myself into a caffeine induced mania. That is totally a thing, by the way! For those of you who have given me crazy looks after I've had a latte, you know what I'm talking about, and now it all makes sense. I didn't know this until recently, but caffeine acts like an amphetamine for some people with bipolar. So while drinking a cup of coffee for you may feel like a nice pick-me-up, for me it's like popping an adderall. I don't get this from a single cup of coffee, but two, three, four, oh hell yeah. And it is highly addictive for me. I can go overboard fast.
Instead of doing this, I asked my house sitter if she would be okay with cleaning up for some extra cash. I threw all the toys in a giant unorganized bin to deal with later, washed the dishes, minimized the rotten smell coming from the kitchen and tossed the laundry in my bedroom. Rule number one: good-enough is good-enough.
We made it to the beach, Aspen did surprisingly well in the car, and I was so thankful for the extra time with my husband in the car.
Saturday: Time with my family was so refreshing. I felt like I could breathe. I wasn't worried about having enough energy to make it until bedtime. I wasn't worried about anything. Aspen played with her grandparents, we went for a walk, we ate good food. I was calm. I was stable. This is where I want to live. I want to live in this state of being.
I want to wake up in the morning without worrying about what my psyche is going to put me through. I want to know that no matter what happens, my kid and I will be okay. When I am in these seasons of instability, I feel like a child taking care of a child. It is scary. I need an adult. Waking up to a house full of loved ones brought me so much comfort, freedom, and rest for my soul.
Sunday: we had plans to hike in the morning, but Aspen wasn't doing well so we needed to head home early. She slept for quite a bit of the drive home. By the time we got home I was completely exhausted, even though the weekend had been restful. I went to bed around 5pm. I woke up briefly at 6:50pm to sing my daughter her bedtime song and then went right back to bed until morning.
Monday: Hello Darkness, my old friend. Back to loneliness. Back to crashing waves. Back to fear. Back to exhaustion. This week wasn't as scary as last week because I knew I had help coming. I knew I had an appointment with a psychiatrist on Wednesday. This saved me from sinking. I picked up my phone and called my friend. She came over with her toddler in tow, both in their jammies. We talked and played until nap-time and I knew I would be okay. Social distancing is not really an option for me right now. People talk about "stay home, save lives". I am not being facetious when I say, "Please come over, save lives" also applies right now. I am not scared of COVID taking my family, I am afraid of social isolation taking me. So, yeah, we're seeing our healthy and low risk friends and family right now. My friend saved me on Monday. After nap time Wynter came home, and I went to bed for the night at 4pm.
Tuesday: I'm alive!! I woke up at 6:30am ready to roll. Aspen and I got showered, dressed, ate a good breakfast and were out the door at 8:30am. We headed to the bank to cash a couple checks, grabbed coffee, and had a nice walk in the park.Then we played in her room. Later she took a nap, I called some friends while I cleaned the house. In the midst of cleaning the house I took an inventory of the fridge. Made several recipes to use up the fresh produce that was due to expire next. Aspen woke up, we cooked together, play outside, our friends come over again. I gave Aspen a bath and still had more in the tank after she went to bed.
Was this hypomania or just a baseline, healthy day? Hard to say, but one thing is for sure, it was a hell of a lot different from the day before. This is the difficult part of bipolar disorder. I am all of these things. When I wake up right now I am at the mercy of my psyche and energy levels. I have little control over this.
Living with untreated, rapid-cycling bipolar is like free floating in the ocean with a pool noodle. There will be days, hours, maybe even weeks of good weather. I am just floating along, everything is dandy. Then with little warning the clouds form, the rain falls, the waves get higher and higher. Maybe they are waves I can navigate. Maybe I can stay on top. Or maybe they pin me down, and I fight for every single precious bit of oxygen. Then, as quickly as it came, the storm leaves. I can take a deep breath, but I don't forget. I float along and I wonder, will I survive the next one?
Today I met with a psychiatrist for the first time and got an official diagnosis. She asked so many questions about my health, family, and social history. She told me what we could expect in the future. She is talking to my other doctors to collaborate and find the best medication for my and the little baby I'm carrying. She's looking at blood tests to make sure things stay in check and don't change too drastically when we introduce new medications. Suddenly, I feel like I'm in a little fishing boat instead of on a pool floaty. Maybe this fishing boat can take me to dry land, where even in the storms I will have some protection and stability. I will not be at the mercy of these waves forever.
I do want to give a brief synopsis of the last few days because I want to show the ups and downs of rapid-cycling bipolar for people who are unfamiliar. So here goes:
Friday: I needed to somehow find the energy to make it to the beach, and I have no idea how this is going to happen. After telling my parents about my latest melt down, they suggested a spontaneous get-a-way to their house on the bay. Our house was a mess, and I couldn't leave it that way because we had a house sitter coming over and there was moldy spaghetti in the fridge stinking up the house. How could I subject her to that? There were also so many toys on the floor that walking through the living room was risking injury. When I am in depressive episodes, the house gets this way. I can barely summon enough energy to feed and clothe myself and my daughter. Everything else goes to shit, pretty much. Laundry everywhere. Dishes pile up. Toys everywhere mixed with random bits of garbage from amazon packaging because I also try to cope with depression by buying anything online that I think might make my life with a toddler slightly easier. Depressed Ally will buy whatever quick-fix you are selling.
So, the house is a mess, I have no energy, and I feel the need to kick myself into hypomania to get through. I can do this sometimes. I did it in high school and college fairly often when deadlines presented. I can pull myself together to accomplish/survive pretty incredible things with this mechanism. However, the price I pay at the end can be severe (cue, depressive crash).
I decided to lower my standards instead of pushing myself into a caffeine induced mania. That is totally a thing, by the way! For those of you who have given me crazy looks after I've had a latte, you know what I'm talking about, and now it all makes sense. I didn't know this until recently, but caffeine acts like an amphetamine for some people with bipolar. So while drinking a cup of coffee for you may feel like a nice pick-me-up, for me it's like popping an adderall. I don't get this from a single cup of coffee, but two, three, four, oh hell yeah. And it is highly addictive for me. I can go overboard fast.
Instead of doing this, I asked my house sitter if she would be okay with cleaning up for some extra cash. I threw all the toys in a giant unorganized bin to deal with later, washed the dishes, minimized the rotten smell coming from the kitchen and tossed the laundry in my bedroom. Rule number one: good-enough is good-enough.
We made it to the beach, Aspen did surprisingly well in the car, and I was so thankful for the extra time with my husband in the car.
Saturday: Time with my family was so refreshing. I felt like I could breathe. I wasn't worried about having enough energy to make it until bedtime. I wasn't worried about anything. Aspen played with her grandparents, we went for a walk, we ate good food. I was calm. I was stable. This is where I want to live. I want to live in this state of being.
I want to wake up in the morning without worrying about what my psyche is going to put me through. I want to know that no matter what happens, my kid and I will be okay. When I am in these seasons of instability, I feel like a child taking care of a child. It is scary. I need an adult. Waking up to a house full of loved ones brought me so much comfort, freedom, and rest for my soul.
Sunday: we had plans to hike in the morning, but Aspen wasn't doing well so we needed to head home early. She slept for quite a bit of the drive home. By the time we got home I was completely exhausted, even though the weekend had been restful. I went to bed around 5pm. I woke up briefly at 6:50pm to sing my daughter her bedtime song and then went right back to bed until morning.
Monday: Hello Darkness, my old friend. Back to loneliness. Back to crashing waves. Back to fear. Back to exhaustion. This week wasn't as scary as last week because I knew I had help coming. I knew I had an appointment with a psychiatrist on Wednesday. This saved me from sinking. I picked up my phone and called my friend. She came over with her toddler in tow, both in their jammies. We talked and played until nap-time and I knew I would be okay. Social distancing is not really an option for me right now. People talk about "stay home, save lives". I am not being facetious when I say, "Please come over, save lives" also applies right now. I am not scared of COVID taking my family, I am afraid of social isolation taking me. So, yeah, we're seeing our healthy and low risk friends and family right now. My friend saved me on Monday. After nap time Wynter came home, and I went to bed for the night at 4pm.
Tuesday: I'm alive!! I woke up at 6:30am ready to roll. Aspen and I got showered, dressed, ate a good breakfast and were out the door at 8:30am. We headed to the bank to cash a couple checks, grabbed coffee, and had a nice walk in the park.Then we played in her room. Later she took a nap, I called some friends while I cleaned the house. In the midst of cleaning the house I took an inventory of the fridge. Made several recipes to use up the fresh produce that was due to expire next. Aspen woke up, we cooked together, play outside, our friends come over again. I gave Aspen a bath and still had more in the tank after she went to bed.
Was this hypomania or just a baseline, healthy day? Hard to say, but one thing is for sure, it was a hell of a lot different from the day before. This is the difficult part of bipolar disorder. I am all of these things. When I wake up right now I am at the mercy of my psyche and energy levels. I have little control over this.
Living with untreated, rapid-cycling bipolar is like free floating in the ocean with a pool noodle. There will be days, hours, maybe even weeks of good weather. I am just floating along, everything is dandy. Then with little warning the clouds form, the rain falls, the waves get higher and higher. Maybe they are waves I can navigate. Maybe I can stay on top. Or maybe they pin me down, and I fight for every single precious bit of oxygen. Then, as quickly as it came, the storm leaves. I can take a deep breath, but I don't forget. I float along and I wonder, will I survive the next one?
Today I met with a psychiatrist for the first time and got an official diagnosis. She asked so many questions about my health, family, and social history. She told me what we could expect in the future. She is talking to my other doctors to collaborate and find the best medication for my and the little baby I'm carrying. She's looking at blood tests to make sure things stay in check and don't change too drastically when we introduce new medications. Suddenly, I feel like I'm in a little fishing boat instead of on a pool floaty. Maybe this fishing boat can take me to dry land, where even in the storms I will have some protection and stability. I will not be at the mercy of these waves forever.
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