I tell myself this every day

I tell myself this every day

Thursday, December 22, 2016

One Day

I don't want to say I'm losing it because my meds and moods are stable but life is starting to come dangerously close to chipping away at them.

I was fired after my boss found my blog and vlog about living with bipolar. Nothing my disorder did or behavior it caused, or even my work performance, but simply having a mental illness and him reading and watching a small piece of my reality, something that all bipolar people go through.

He saw a tiny, minuscule fraction of what I’ve dealt with my whole life and got scared. That’s why I’m a fighter and a hard ass- I have to be. You don’t live this long with this disorder without having some thick, nasty scars.

No job, finances that were already strained due to a 2 week medical leave, car inspection due with bad breaks and 4 bald tires, expensive car payment for a car that isn’t worth a quarter of what I bought it for because of my bad credit at the time, doctor visits, medication, food, dog food, and a million other things are starting to eat away the pillars that stabilize me. Sleep seems to be my stress’s new target. Only getting 3-5 hours each night isn’t helping my mental state, and I panic before bedtime for some reason. Knowing I have to go to sleep but my situation hasn't improved each day causes really bad anxiety.

I’m trying to contact local news channels to get my story out. I need a job but just like anyone with a disability, I have limitations. The balancing act between staying stable and recovering from the past 6 months leaves me unable to take just anything. It's a psychological disability and I'm not being selfish or lazy- I'm setting myself up to better maintain a job and make wise decisions in every aspect of my life.

The financial strain and me unable to take just any job offered makes me feel like I'm being one of "those people," but I know I'm not and that my motivation is completely reasonable for my disorder and for my future. But the "you're ungrateful, lazy, and selfishly asking for free money," is hard to fight off. I could take that kind of judgement easier from a stranger than I can from my own brain.

I may be losing my mind right now but I feel like achieving my short term goals will dictate the outcome. Do I take a warehouse job that will crush my sanity, take up valuable time, get fired because of my inability to do the job or quit because of a psychological breakdown? What I need to do is stay focused, keep moving forward, take care of myself, and be ok with asking for help, because I do need it.

I want everyone who donated their hard earned money to understand that it wasn’t just a donation, it’s an investment in someone who suffers from mental illness and someone who WILL become a success story. I have long term goals that will help my predicament so I won’t have to make it a habit for asking for help in monetary form. I’m not a “bandaid on a severed leg” kind of gal, I look at the bigger picture because if I don’t like something then I don’t want to end up in the same situation again.

Anyone who contributes needs a reward, not just a typed out "thank you" message. I want to make sure the person who donates hundreds of dollars to the people that donate $5 can eventually see where their contribution went to. One day I’ll be able to say that your 5$, $20, $50, $100 or more donation directly boosted me into success. You’ll be able to look at me and say “holy shit, I helped her get there. I was a part of that” If I play my cards right and keep myself healthy I’ll end up on top. I’ll be fighting some serious battles to get there but I’m determined.

Thanks for reading


Tuesday, December 13, 2016

Redacted Tonight

Here's a quick run down of federal and state law on job related discrimination and wrongful termination:

Federal: EEOC Laws, ADA- Americans with Disabilities Act 1990

- prohibits discriminatory barriers for qualified people with mental disabilities
- prohibits treating a qualified employee with a disability unfairly
- prohibits treating an employee unfavorably because they have a history of mental disability
- employer must provide reasonable accommodations related to disability
- a reasonable accommodation is any change in the work environment (or in the way things are usually done) to help the person apply for a job, perform the duties of a job, or enjoy the benefits and privileges of employment
- defines as a mental or physical health condition that "substantially limits one or more major life activities."
- forbids discrimination in all aspects of employment- including hiring and firing
- prohibits harassment of employees for having a disability
- harassment is illegal when it is so frequent or severe that it creates a hostile or offensive work environment or when it results in an adverse employment decision

State: Virginia Human Rights Act
- covers everything the federal law does



As you can see I absolutely qualify for either a state for federal lawsuit. My situation meets every requirement as stated above. I also had meticulously collected audio recordings of conversations, documentation, and witnesses to make my case bullet proof because I knew something wasn't right about the way I was being treated. Any lawyer would love to get a case easy as this.

Virginia is an At-Will Employment state which means you can be fired for any reason and with or without notice. Any reason, as long as the situation isn't covered under the state and federal laws. You could be fired without explanation because he decided he didn't want a black person working for him anymore. But he isn't obligated to tell you as to why you're being fired. My former employer brought me into his office with my blog open the computer screen and with some of my posts printed out with highlighted sections. He used those and notes he had taken while watching my videos, as what he saw were valid reasons to fire me. Not anything I had done, but the words I use to communicate the struggle I go through every day. It was loud and clear as to what he wanted me to understand about my termination. Being fired over a disability was broadcasted loud and clear.

So I pretty much have a slam dunk case. Obvious workplace discrimination, solid proof, and an employer who willfully implied why I was being let go.

Here's the kicker. The federal law applies ONLY to businesses that have 15 or more full time employees.

State law applies ONLY to businesses that have 6 or more full time employees.

The shop I worked at had 4 full time employees when I worked there, if you include me.

I absolutely, 100%, do not pass go & collect $200, have any legal standing in this situation.



None.



The laws do not cover me because of the employee minimum requirements. I cannot file a complaint, I cannot file a suit at the federal and state level.


"This is discrimination, it's illegal!"


No, it's not. He did not break any laws by discriminating against me and then telling me about it. What he did was 100% within the law. What he did is not illegal.


But it is wrong.


If you would like to help out in the situation since the law is not on my side, I have a Gofundme campaign as well as a Paypal.

I also have a wishlist for doggie items such as food, shampoo, and some constructive toys to keep them mentally stimulated. Taking care of my dogs has been my main source of daily comfort. Happy dogs come from proper day to day training, exercise, discipline, and being psychologically challenged. They keep my emotions in check. They let me know when my moods are off and I am unable to notice on my own. They're a consistent motivation for being held responsible and keeping my mental state under surveillance. Any gift for the dogs actually contributes directly to my mental well being.

Contributing to help better my situation isn't just a donation, it's an investment. This is time where I will be busting ass to achieve and maintain stability and launch off into a new job since bike shops don't hire in the winter, and I'm sure my situation has gotten me blacklisted from bike shop employment everywhere. A risk I knew I was taking.

I'll come out on top, the way to get there isn't clear yet but I'll get there. I've just hit a tough spot through no fault of my own. It's the fault of the stigma surrounding mental illness because of ignorance and unnecessary fear.

I'm struggling pretty hard right now with my car payments and phone bill. My car insurance has recently lapsed because I couldn't afford it so I'm without the ability to drive currently. To the people who have been generous and donated I can't thank you enough. It's what has been keeping me afloat financially and psychologically. I'm not just dealing with sudden job loss, I'm dealing with a health crisis and you've been there for me. Thank you. To those just finding this post and learning about my story, any and all help is appreciated.

Live locally? If you have anything to donate please let me know. People have given me toiletries, dog food, and other gracious gifts.

If your financial situation is tight or you don't believe in handing out money, but you still want to help, please share this post. Share my GoFundMe campaign, my Paypal, the Mad Bike Woman Facebook page posts- share everything. I don't have any legal power but I want my story heard. Anything and everything is greatly appreciated.







Thanks for reading

Sunday, December 11, 2016

Santa Might Actually Come

A lot of people asked to help out with my kids' Christmas through an Amazon wish list so I had the girls set up their own. I left them alone with a computer while they did so and the results are one list with a humble 4 items on it and my other daughter put a modest......... 82 items on her list. Obviously, don't feel like my youngest will have a disappointIng Christmas if santa doesn't show up with the whopping 92 items she's so freely clicked upon. I just can't afford to get them presents at this point (due to job loss ) so anything under the tree will bring a smile to their face, and also the fact that humans don't have to personally know each other in order be kind and experience empathy. That's what's most important, my kids understanding how caring for others works.

Faye's List

Lydia's List


On the flip side, some people out there don't like kids, which I totally understand. But those people usually love the shit out of dogs. So if you would like to spread holiday cheer but think children are germ infested leeches slowly eating away at our precious resources, then I have something for you! I created a doggie wish list because I have 3 dogs that are a huge part of keeping me stable. I'm not just talking about the snuggles, the kisses, or the adorable tale wags- I mean training them, making sure I stay on schedule, keeping a routine, monitoring my body language, analyzing and correcting my emotions so I don't transfer negativity to them, solving psychological problems they have, and hundreds of other invaluable ways they unknowingly keep me sane. The only non toy on there is a jacket for my pit, she has the thinnest coat I've ever seen on a dog and freezes on cold day walks. I've been using a sad combination of a thrift store dog jacket that's full of holes that I s falling apart, and one of my kid's sweaters they out grew and I chopped up to make it roughly fit. It doesn't keep her very warm and she looks homeless. Obviously, the dogs will not know they are missing out if they have nothing under the tree this holiday, but it will contribute to their happiness and in a way be a gift for my kids, my husband, myself, and our neighbors who much rather live next door to a house where the dogs are happy and occupied vs of a pack of unhinged furry terrorists.

Doggie List


Anything helps and everything is appreciated ❤️


Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Nowhere to run

I'm running on pure anxiety at this point. My entire life is being shaped, molded, and controlled by it. Daily life has become excruciating. My fight or flight reflex is going off 24 hours a day and I'm in a constant state of fear. Because my brain's natural response is avoidance, I try to go out of the house so I don't make things worse by isolating myself. I tried to take one of my dogs to the pet store but she was pulling so hard on the leash that I could barely control her. It had my adrenaline levels shooting through the roof. I was psychologically overwhelmed by fear and the feeling of hopelessness. I so badly wanted a car to speed through the parking lot and hit me. I wanted the leash pulling to end, I wanted the anxiety to end, I wanted the invasive thoughts to end, I wanted the sleepless nights full of nightmares to end, I wanted the fact that I will never escape this illness to end. 

I would never jump in front of a car, and I don't have impulses to self harm, but at that moment I wanted something to give me relief and I was begging the universe to provide it for me in the form of a freak accident.

The new dog, Annie, and I got as far as the sliding doors before the feeling of needing to vomit became too much. I tried. I really gave it all I could, I just feel awful that the best I had was getting from the car to the front sidewalk of a Petco. I become fearful and operate on pure instinct and my brain always chooses flight. I can't get inside a pet store with my dog.

I have something in my head that can overtake my ability to function to the point where I can't do something as simple as walk inside of a pet store. This is bipolar disorder and it can eat you alive.

I love my dogs and the new puppy, but I can't cope with simple things like dogs pulling on a leash. I've tried for years to get my current 2 dogs to walk properly on a leash and I've been trying to teach the puppy but whatever it is I'm doing has to be counter productive because the new dog is worse than she was when we got her. I can't walk them properly now because my mental state is an rotten mess. Animals sense emotions and being someone who is bipolar and currently going through a very unstable period, my dogs' behaviour reflects my disastrous state of mind.

I often just stand on the side of the street with my dogs and cry. 

I just want to walk my dogs but this disorder took that away from me.

Walks when it's dark out are miserable. I have to walk each dog individually because they are worse when together. At night they will cower, whine, and startle easily. One of them can get aggressive with other passer byes and other animals because he's so scared and nervous. I feel absolutely awful about this. Trying to take care of my animals has turned into constant reminders that I currently have no emotional stability or control over my life.

I took a 2 week medical leave from work because I basically had a bipolar nervous breakdown of sorts. I'm tired and can't handle the anxiety and mixed episodes. The period of anticonvulsant medication withdrawals plus lithium's side effects have worn me down. It's been over 5 months and I've had no relief. Add some stress in there and what I am now is the final result.

A broken down woman who's slowly finding it harder and harder to believe this will eventually get better.

Someone suggested getting on disability pay but I feel like I'm still able to work, and it also doesn't pay shit. Understandably so, it's meant to help someone survive, not maintain a lifestyle. I have an iPhone and 3 dogs that constantly convince me they need new toys every other day. Disability isn't an option for me right now, hopefully it will never have to be.

I constantly feel like I'm going to throw up because of the anxiety. Nothing brings me any joy and everything feels like a threat. Every little sudden movement or sound makes me nervous and I often jump back from being so suddenly startled. It's a nightmare. It's a constant state of fear and I'm stuck in it 24/7.

I'm actually able to get to the grocery store by myself (which was impossible until 2 or so weeks ago) but I realized it's because I'm stuck in my own mental bubble. Social anxiety hasn't been a problem because it takes external forces (like other people) in order to activate it. Now my anxiety has evolved to no longer need and external cause. So now I'm experiencing the same elevated level of fear whether other people are involved or not. There's no safe place, nowhere to hide, and no escaping it. Every moment of my day is like walking on a mix of glass shards and salt, except it's in the form of involuntary emotions.

Not even writing this gives me any relief.


Thanks for reading

Monday, November 21, 2016

The Witch, Blood Tests, and Lithium Mess

5 months ago I went through and called every single psychiatrist's office that my insurance covers. Almost 60 different practices and only 4 responses. Most of them weren't taking new patients or just never returned my calls, a couple of them offered me their nurse practitioner but I declined. I need a Dr, I understand the differences between the two but I needed a psychiatrist. Tegretol's side effects had become too much. I couldn't remember one minute to the next, I was always unbelievably tired and it was just getting worse. I experienced long bouts of mental confusion which made meeting life's demands nearly impossible. I developed something else that I didn't know existed, I ended up with hypothyroidism. I needed to get my medication reevaluated and by a psychiatrist.*

One office was able to take me in and I scheduled an appointment but when I got there they informed me that I will see their nurse practitioner, something I specifically told them I didn't want. I wrote down the name of the Dr they told me I would be seeing and expressed that my appointment was confirmed over the phone with this doctor. I was told that I must be mistaken because that Dr isn't taking new patients. There I was, frustrated about my medication side effects (and they were getting worse and worse each day), spending my lunch breaks calling Dr office after Dr office, all just to take care of myself and my bipolar disorder and I landed in some sort of bait and switch situation. I even had to wait 3 weeks to get into this place and it had the shortest waiting period, the next one being 6 weeks out. I just want to take care of myself.

I had already paid for the visit so I figured I might as well get something for my copay, which is just a symbol of time wasted at this point. I sat down with the NP to give her a shot. She looked like my grandmother, who was also a nurse, which instantly pulled at some heartstrings. My grandmother had bipolar and was probably the most special person to me during my childhood. I made the mistake of making a decision out of emotion, something I rarely, if ever, do. I put my well being into her hands.

She means well and I honestly believe she's done the best she can. She did not half ass her effort as a medical professional,  and she genuinely cares about me as a patient, but her best has completely screwed up all of my hard work. She has no ill intent and is sweet as can be but she has created a fiery psychological hell that has all but consumed me.

I was on Tegretol at 400 mg for about 3 years, that's the usual max dose (some people are prescribed more, but it usually maxes out at 400 mg). It's an anticonvulsant usually used for for patients that are prone to seizures, but it has also been found to have mood stabilizing qualities. It's something your body has to be weaned off of slowly, very slowing, usually cutting the dose by 10% every 2 weeks. That's not the instructions I was given. I was told to cut my dose in half every 2 days so I did. A week and 2 days later I'm in the middle of the country on a bike ride when my whole body gave up and started shaking violently. My muscles suddenly gave out and I sat on the side of the road with a fellow rider who was gracious enough to hang with me for a while and feed me snacks with plenty of water to make sure I was ok. He and another guy thought it was a low blood sugar issue but I know how to fuel up before a ride and during so I ruled that possibility out, but I've also never had my muscles give up on me while my body trembled from head to toe.

I was able to pedal the 20+ miles back. They were some painfully slow miles but that's all I had. I went home that day and spent my afternoon throwing up while still shaking. Then I started getting crushing migraines. I had never had a migraine before but I have given birth. It was like my skull was trying to birth a large boulder. All the windows had to be blacked out, the dogs couldn't be in the same room as me, there were ear plugs in my ears because all sound was like a pickaxe to my head. I constantly had an ice pack resting on my forehead, and there was a terrible pain in my eyes. It was like they were trying to press themselves out of each respective socket. There was no relief. Pain meds weren't much help. One of my prescribed medications interacts with the majority of over the counter headache options, and the one that was supposed to be safe caused my heart to race and caused major panic attacks.

It was then my husband hopped online and figured out I was going through withdrawals associated with anticonvulsant medication. I developed a stutter and involuntary hand movements that were embarrassing. I'm not ever self conscious about much but the way some customers in the shop would look at me made me feel like shit. It's already hard to get people to trust and respect you as woman in a bike shop (you'd be surprised how quick we can be written off because of our anatomy) but it's even harder to be taken seriously when your hands keep pointing, balling themselves up, and awkwardly jerking around in the air without the ability to stop them. I was even made fun of by some people. Had a guy at Staples ask me "what the hell are you doing with your hands?" Thanks random asshole. That's exactly how you should talk to people. I'm assuming he goes up to people in wheel chairs and asks "what the hell are you not doing with your legs?"

The stutter that developed made speaking difficult because I knew what I wanted to say but it took forever to come out, if it even came out at all. It was really frustrating, especially for someone like me who normally talks too much and at over 100 mph. Not being able to get the words out felt like the last second or two before you absolutely have to breathe after holding your breath for as long as humanly possible. It's a pressurized panicky feeling, a built up frustration that you can feel in every part of your lungs and skull. Those sensations are the force behind every word you can't get out. The interesting and somewhat funny part was how nice strangers treated me when I had a stutter. People sympathize better if you have an issue that they can see.

If I had to choose a worst of the worst side effect from the withdrawal stage it would be the inability to sleep. If I got 5 hours it was a goddamn miracle but that miracle didn't happen but 5 or 6 times during those first 3 months. I had been on sleeping meds for almost 7 years at this point but they were ineffective; my brain was not going to let me rest. I spent 3 months going through withdrawals and all while sleep deprived. I don't know how most people are but my brain shuts down if I don't get adequate sleep. I felt like the living dead.

When I saw the NP during all of this and told her what was going I watched her hop on her phone and google how long the withdrawals process could take. Right in front of me.

I'm telling you, she's doing the best she can. She was genuinely concerned about what I was going through and if she had had any prior knowledge that any of this would have happen she would have weaned me off slower.

But she didn't and my life was hell but that is only the first half of this experience.

During the weaning process I was prescribed a new medication- lithium (new to me).  The NP started me on the highest dose of lithium while she was yanking me off the anticonvulsant. Your body needs to be slowly introduced to lithium, just like it needs to be slowly taken off Tegretol. Lithium's side effects went wild almost immediately.

Once the withdrawal shaking died down I was left with uncontrollable hand tremors. My hands wouldn't stop shaking which made every day gestures arduous. I couldn't steady them long enough to put my house key in the lock. I couldn't button my shirts (still have trouble with this one). I couldn't put on my makeup nor could I hold an object for too long before it rattled right out of my grasp. What use to be simple movements became endlessly pathetic attempts; picking up a pen had become a frustrating 15 second cat and mouse game. Turning the page in a book took military level planning. I still have bad hand tremors but they are slightly less in intensity.

I had trouble standing up because my equilibrium is so greatly affected by the lithium. If I'm not in motion I almost always have to sit down because my body sways around and focusing on shifting my feet to keep myself upright is all I can pay attention to. I haven't been on a bike since this whole mess started because I figure if I can't stand up then how the hell am I going to balance on a bike? I don't want to injure myself, or worse, endanger other riders.

Forget closing my eyes while standing up, I would save more time by just throwing myself to the ground. Simple daily tasks like closing my eyes in the shower to rinse my face off become difficult, I actually have to brace myself because once they're shut I essentially have no balance. I try to shower with my husband as much as possible because I'm afraid of falling over and injuring myself. Well, that and I like seeing him naked.

Lithium is a salt so hydration- the right balance of water to salt intake- is essential. That being said, it can also cause water retention and the good news is that I also had that side effect in spades. My body decided to store all the excess water in my stomach, which caused it to swell up to the point where I looked pregnant. I still have a bit of a swollen stomach today but it's not as intense. It just look like a "drink a lot of beer and over invite all of you neighbors to all of you carport cookouts" kind of belly now. Looking at you Lakeside.

Then the fun really started. My hair began to fall out.

I noticed in the shower that there was an increase in the amount of hair flowing down the drain. Then I noticed strands of hair on the sink, all over the floor, choking up my brushes, and even falling out as I prepared food (don't worry, I picked them out). I couldn't wear my bangs straight across my forehead like I usually did because my hair thinned out to the point where my bangs had sections too thin which created gaps, causing the whole delicate hair to forehead ratio to become unbalanced. I have bangs because my forehead is shaped funny, I don't need a funny looking forehead with half assed clumps of hair scattered all over it.

At this point I looked like a balding pregnant woman who was casting spells with my exaggerated, involuntary hand movements.

I also had menstruation cycles that were 2 weeks long and experienced frequent bleeding inbetween periods. Uteri are fickle, somewhat wild creatures so I didn't feel any real sense of alarm until one of my periods surpassed 2 weeks in duration. I visited my gynecologist and after checking for and finding no physical abnormalities she was convinced it was part of my thyroid's process of getting back to regulating my hormones since it was under functioning until 2 months ago. She said it could last a couple months or 6+ months.

Great. Now I'm a bleeding, balding pregnant woman casting spells.

It also affects your digestive system and can cause constipation. I've had horrific constipation, sometimes I won't be able to go for 4-7 days, even though I take stool softeners and have bumped up my already high fiber diet to a super high fiber diet. I have to drink a lot of water and apparently that should help but it doesn't. When I finally have to go my stools are so hard and massive that it's incredibly painful and causes bleeding. I'm so sore afterwards that it hurts to sit down for an hour or so.

Now I'm a bleeding, balding pregnant woman casting spells who can't poop.

So far lithium sucks and it's benefits have been minimal. I blame being put on the (what is usually considered) max dose on day one. My body didn't have time to adjust and the intensity of the side effects reflect that. I asked the NP if we could drop the dose down in order to help my body get used to it and she gave the go ahead. That was a disaster, not her fault this time. I was worse off psychologically and felt like I use to before I was diagnosed and medicated. The reduction in side effects was minimal. After 1 week of 900 mg I went back to 1200 mg. Took about a week for my body to catch up but when it did I didn't feel "better," just less worse.

I will say there has been one beneficial side effect which goes hand in hand with it's worst side effect. I've lost 8 lbs, which is interesting because lithium is not known for weight loss, it's actually infamous for excessive weight gain. It's not unheard of by any means but it's relatively uncommon. I've also lost that weight during a time where I haven't been riding, which means the extra 2 to 3 thousand calories I would normally burn each week haven't played any role in my weight loss. I like this a lot, especially since Tegretol affected my thyroid to the point of gaining weight even while using calorie control and constant cardio exercise. Back then, if I even looked at a picture of a cake or some muffins on Facebook or in a magazine I would instantly gain a pound. The weight loss might just be the result of going off Tegretol but lithium has not added any more pounds onto my balding, pregnant witch body, and that is a very much welcome result.

Have I mentioned bacne yet? Because I have also developed that. Zits have broken out across my back, but has left my face unaffected. Most reported acne cases with lithium report acne on their face. My face has actually cleared up almost completely, something I was struggling with for a couple of years (probably caused by low thyroid function). But yes, I also have acne on my back, or as we said in middle school "bacne." It doesn't bother me too much as it's on my back which means I don't have to stare at it often, and it seems to be a pretty mild case anyway. I also have 25% of an unfinished back tattoo that does a good job hiding the bumps.

Now I'm a bleeding, balding pregnant woman with "bacne," casting spells who can't poop.

I have to get blood tests often because lithium is poisonous and it's clinically effective level is a hairline away from its toxic level. I find it ironic I have to take something dangerous in order to be healthy. My lithium blood levels are really low for being on such a high dose. Drinking too much water can flush out too much lithium out of your system so I tried drinking less water but it didn't seem to help. I don't want to raise my dose, the side effects are already too worrisome. It also makes me so unbelievably thirsty, causing my mouth to dry out and my breath to smell like hot garbage even though I brush, floss, and use mouthwash daily.

Now I'm a constipated, bleeding, and balding pregnant woman with "bacne,"casting spells with a mouth that smells like a sun baked port-o-potty.

I am the lithium witch.

I'm not a fan of lithium so far but that's because my body doesn't seem to want to cooperate with it. Not everyone has these experiences with the drug so if you feel discouraged about trying it just remember that this story is my personal experience and should not be taken as medical fact. A lot of people have had really positive experiences, mine just doesn't happen to be one of them.







*The psychiatrist I was working with specialized in ADHD and addiction. I had been going to him for almost 8 years due to my ADHD and my brother use to go the same office for addiction counseling when he was still alive. I was diagnosed, treated, and properly medicated while in Pittsburgh and after moving back to Richmond I only needed a Dr to refill my prescriptions in order to maintain my medication regimen until I needed to move on to a different Dr. When the Tegretol became a problem he referred me to another Dr who is better suited to treat bipolar and other behavioral disorders. That particular Dr doesn't accept insurance and the initial visit was about $400. Needless to say I did not take that option. Gotta give a shout out to Dr. Bright. He's a great man.







Saturday, November 19, 2016

Dog eat Dog

I got a new dog. She's a 9.5 month old frenchie pit bull mix and was completely unexpected, like an unplanned pregnancy. We got her from the pound and she's perfect in every way- housebroken (mostly), super relaxed, listens well, learns very easily, loves affection, doesn't chew on anything, plays well with the other dogs, doesn't chase cats, loves car rides, and about 1000 other things that make a dog perfect.

She's also came into my life during the worst bipolar episode I've had since being diagnosed and medicated. Something's happened and I don't know if the catalyst is chemical, environmental, or cerebral. What I do know is that my symptoms have become overwhelming and unmanageable- mostly because I have no way to denominate these new emotions- not quite anxiety, not quite depression, nothing in the apogees that are bipolar depression or mania.

I'm easily confused by simple events or thoughts. I wake up and don't feel like myself or feel any connection to my physical surroundings. They're visually familiar, as if I've seen them in a movie once a long time ago. My many alarm clocks in the morning don't register as marking a significant point in my schedule. Their existence is confusing because I can't correlate time and my physical being. Time doesn't mean anything, my brain won't recognize it. I NEED to feel connected to the concept of time, most people don't function without it and I certainly can't.

My sense of time is usually bad (worst in the world) but that's because I'm easily distracted. That's why I have a watch and a billion alarms set on my phone for my mornings. My chorus of punctuality looks like this:

6:00: wake up
6:15: out of bed, brush teeth, make bed
6:30: getting dogs ready for walk
6:45: walking dogs, letting me know to be home in 15 min or less
7:00: feeding dogs
7:15: pulling out work out weights and mat
7:30: workout break, folding laundry
7:45: finish workout and fumble around with whatever your ADHD says to
8:00: get in shower
8:30: put makeup on
9:00: catch up on news and social media
9:30: go to work

None of that is interesting and I promise I didn't type that out in order to punish you. The point is to show the strict morning schedule I set for myself, and it's been like that for a while. It's the same thing, every morning, every day so my body and mind are used to it- it's like breathing and blinking at this point. That is until the switch got flipped. Now my alarms scare me when they go off, I can't connect with them as reference points in which certain tasks need to be done. I wake up unable to consociate my life and reality. I can't start my day because some sort of essential program in my brain has crashed.

404 life not found

I've never had that before. I've disconnected and disassociated before, that's some scary stuff, but what is happening now is different. I am able to channel my mind enough to communicate (that doesn't always happen during the bad times) but actually feeling in tune with my life isn't happening. New dog, great husband, same loving, internet addicted children, same awesome job in the cycling industry, everything is good. Everything is healthy and steady as ever.

Except my brain.

I'm suffering like I've never experienced before, not the worst I've ever experienced fortunately, but the worst since my diagnosis almost 4 years ago. And this is different. These symptoms have no precedence and are too intense to function with. I've been through a lot of therapy for self management but nothing prepared me for this.

I am not at a functioning state currently. As I'm typing this the setting sun is setting off my anxiety and the paratrophic sensation of mental disassociation. Any change of any kind sets these feelings off.

I know who I am, I just don't know who's life I wake up to every morning. I don't know these emotions I'm beleaguered with. I'm just trying to survive this episode and return back to any sense of familiarity.


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Sunday, March 13, 2016

On the road again

I work in a bike shop again. I can't tell you how monumental this is for me. This isn't merely a retail job where I do my time and collect a paycheck. This isn't just a great job because I get to be around bikes and get a discount. This is a big deal because I get to see who I really am in a setting I once enjoyed, even when my life was miserable.

I'm 5 weeks in and each day was pretty thrilling as far as a learning experience. I've learned that my anxiety level is low, not at a 0, but at a completely manageable level. I don't feel like I use to, I don't approach people the way I use to, I don't see things the way I use to. It's like a heavy burden has been lifted and I just get to be myself. It's a magical fucking thing. I get to act and feel as myself, which is something I didn't quite have before. I live, exist, talk, and act as the person who was always hiding inside wanted to. I get to be me.

People respond to me entirely different. This has to be the craziest and most unexpected part of the whole experience. I use to think it was the hair and makeup that would put people off but that might have only been a small part of it. I'm still covered in tattoos and have fake eyebrows but no one seems even slightly aware. I have little old ladies that are 2 generations of standards behind today come in and take to me right away. They walk in pretty much warmed up to me the minute I greet them. They laugh at my jokes and have a great time while we talk bike baskets and water bottle cages, not once looking at my physical appearance (I'm still not 100% conventional looking, even if it's almost night and day from before). I have middle aged businessmen (they would always look at me the strangest in my prior bike shop job) talk to me without any sceptical side glances or judgement in their voices.

They're responding to the person. Me. The real me.

There must be complete difference in my expressions and body language that I can't personally observe. I *feel* different, even though it's more of not being different but having the layers of struggle peeled away. I spent 3.5 years in a shop before, and even though the shops are different, there's still the same elements involved when talking to customers.

Feels good. Feels really good.