Sunday, January 4, 2015

Guessing Game

Sorry for leaving things with the previous depressing post for so long.  I kept meaning to write something that was a little more hopeful, but I just never could.

So, things have been bad for a while now.  I'm just so sick of it.  And I'm back to lying frequently when asked how I'm doing.  Sorry if you've been the recipient of one of these lies.  I just get so tired of constantly bringing everyone else down.  And, even though I know they're offered with good intentions, I get tired of the sympathetic looks and comments.

And I feel like other people are getting tired of it too.  Like, come on, you can't seriously be that down for that long!

So, instead I tell people that I'm doing better and then the conversation moves on to something else.
And it's just easier.

But, the other night while HH was praying (we pray together just before bed each night), my mind fixated on something he said about me and it might have started to wander a bit.  But, I think maybe it was inspired wandering?

I started to think about how awful I've felt for so long and how it's been forever since I really felt like "myself".  And how it's been forever since we had a period of stability, when everyone could just be themselves without worrying about how it might effect me.  When I could try to host something in my home and everyone else wouldn't freak out (we can't let Cheryl do that--the stress might put her back in the hospital!) and come up with all these excuses why someone else should host.  (This keeps happening, lately.)  When everyone (myself included) trusted me to be a "normal", functioning human being.

And then a little flag went up.  You've felt this way before.  So, I kept racking my brain (memories are still a serious challenge to pull up).  Until I hit it--every time I took anti-depressants, I eventually went off because this is exactly how I felt!

When I found out that I had bipolar II disorder, I was kind of excited.  I thought that now I'd be able to find a medication that would help instead of hurt.  And it explained why I always felt so yucky on anti-depressants--because they weren't made to treat what was wrong with me.  And so, I have been open and willing to take all of the different medications they've prescribed.  I've given every single one of them a good run, in spite of side effects like dry mouth (resulting in bad breath) and dry skin, serious tremors, confusion, so tired I can hardly get out of bed or accomplish anything during the day, hungry all the time, never feeling full (consequently, plenty of weight gain),  etc.

I kept trying the meds because I kept feeling awful and I had faith that something would eventually help.

But when I had that epiphany the other night, it occurred to me that perhaps I feel so yucky because I feel so yucky.

The lethargy that I feel nearly all the time makes it difficult for me to do the things that I love that normally help when I'm feeling down like working out, cooking and baking, and even playing the piano.  I've actually reached a point where I HATE working out.  HATE IT!  I do it because I keep gaining weight and every time I get dressed or walk past a mirror I tell myself I'm getting fat--even though I know that's not actually true.  But I feel it and I hate myself for it.

So, these negative aspect to these side effects just keep perpetuating more and more negativity in my life.

So....  I'm going to go off all of my meds.

This is kind of scary.  But, it feels right.  I'm going to at least try it.  I'm not saying I'll never try meds again.  I freely admit that things weren't exactly peachy before meds.  There's a reason I wound up in the hospital multiple times.  There's a reason I was so willing to take meds when we changed my diagnosis.  But, nothing is working.  I have a hard time believing that the medication is doing any good.  I mean, HH is debating taking me to the hospital at least once a week because things are so bad.  So far, we've managed to find a safety net and keep me home.  But, we're really not all that far from things being as bad as they can get, so I doubt the medication is what is keeping me safe.

This is going to be a hard sell for my psychiatrist though.

He's already told me he couldn't ever support a plan that doesn't include so meds.  And I understand where he is coming from.  And I have a lot of respect for him and his plans for treatment for me.  A part of why I'm writing this is so my thoughts on the matter are written down and more solidified in my mind.

But, he is a doctor.  And he definitely knows a lot more about all of this than I do.  So, how can I convince him that my reasoning is justifiable?  That something in my gut tells me that for some reason these medications don't mesh with my physiology.  Sometimes I wonder if maybe they're all designed to treat bipolar I?  Because that really is a different beast.  And since I've been on the meds, I don't often experience the hypermedia side to bipolar II.  Other times I wonder if it's just me?  If for some reason, medications just don't sit well with my body.  I've always had pretty strong reactions to medication.  For instance, I can only take a half dose of night time cold medicine (and even then I only take it when straits are dire) because even that much knocks me out for 24 hours or more.  So maybe, I just experience the side effects so strongly, I can't ever feel if the medication is working?

It doesn't help that there are so many options when it comes to medications to treat mood disorders.  And countless combinations of all these drugs.

But, right now, it just feels right to at least take a break.  Maybe this won't work either, but starting fresh could be good, right?

Ugh.  I just wish I knew.

For now, I'm going to give it a go.  If you're a praying person, please offer up a prayer on my behalf.  I had to go off of my meds temporarily during ECT and I don't remember it, but HH said the withdrawals were pretty rough.  Which scares me a little.  That and venturing away from what I know my doctor will want me to do.  But right now, this is the only path that I can see that is lit up by the light that hope brings.

And I could really use a little hope.

Thursday, December 11, 2014

What Now?

I decided to stop doing the day thing since my posting is so very sporadic--both in timing and in subject.

I'm not really sure where to begin with this post, as is so often the case.  I just feel on the tip of some new bit of clarity and I felt prompted to try and sort it out here.

The thing is... I'm not doing very well.

This comes after having three totally stable days last week (no extreme ups, no extreme downs, just able to function like a "normal" person) and one 95% stable day.  It was fantastic.  I was able to get caught up on so many things I've fallen behind on over the past couple of months.  And HH had a bit of relief from worrying about me all the time.  And I got to help my kids with their school work and carry on normal conversations with them and even host a few playdates with their friends.

And then it all came crashing down.  Big time.

And I keep thinking I'm on my way back up.  And in some ways I am.  I don't feel overly depressed, or anxious, or any of that stuff.  For the most part, I feel okay.  Not great or happy, but okay.

But the problem is, the darkest of my thoughts just keep coming.

And I'm getting so tired of fighting them off.

In some ways, it's even harder to keep fighting when I'm doing *mostly* okay than it is when I'm severely depressed.  Because right now it just feels so unfair.  And inexplicable.  And I don't understand it.  And it scares me because it feels like this fight will never end.  Not even pause to give me a brief reprieve.

I'm exhausted from finding things to do to keep myself busy and distracted.

But, I've been thinking a lot about faith.

If you've read my prior posts, I hope you know that I most definitely have faith in Jesus Christ.  Somewhere I remember hearing or reading about the difference between believing in Jesus Christ, versus simply believing Him.

And I think that is where my struggles currently lie.  I believe in Christ and all of His promises.  But, I think there is something in the way of my believing that all of that actually applies to me too.  He says that He gives us weaknesses so we will humble ourselves and turn to Him, so He can make us strong and so we can sit down with Him in the place He has prepared for us in the mansions of His Father (Ether 12).

I believe that.

But, it's harder to believe in it.

Because believing in it means that I have to keep fighting.  It means that no matter how hard things get, I don't get to say that I'm quitting because I'm just not strong enough.  It means that I have to trust that I've been given the strength I need to keep fighting, no matter how dark or how scary or how much I want to just give in and give up.

And even though the alternative of trusting and persevering is pretty unthinkable, it still means I would finally get a break from all of my demons.

But I know that the reasons to keep fighting vastly outweigh the reasons to quit.

So, I choose to have faith.  The kind of faith that means truly trusting those promises.  That is the kind of faith that brings about hope.  I think that hope is what gives us the strength to face the challenges we'd rather not face.

Today HH told me that I'm a fighter and that he's grateful I keep fighting.

I don't feel like a fighter.  So, I'm going to start out by having faith in his faith and hope that that's enough to give me the strength I need to get through today.  And I'm going to be grateful that I have a man like HH in my life who never gives up on me and always believes in me and is often the source of strength I need to keep fighting.  And always encouraging me with the hope that tomorrow will be a better day.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Day 104: Personality Shift

I have to begin this with a bit of a disclaimer:  I am manic today.  I've been in what's called a "mixed state" for over a week now.  That means I'm both manic and depressed at the same time.  Which means it's just the miserable parts of mania going on.  I feel miserably down, hate myself, and can't sit still or calm down.  And I'm really angry and irritable.

Pretty much all things awesome.

But, today, I've left the depression behind and I've just got the mania.  Before you go feeling all sorry for me--Don't.

Being manic has its upsides.  Today I just feel really happy.  And excited.  About life.  About my future.  About my date with HH tonight.  It is really easy to get angry when I'm manic though, so I've had to reign myself in when my kids were not listening and obeying this morning.

But, I did.  For the most part.

And now, I'm back to being happy.

The problem with being manic and attempting a post, however, is that my mind is kind of all over the place and it's difficult to follow one train of thought to its completion.  But, you were all very kind in overlooking the numerous typos in my last post, so I'm trusting you will do the same if this post is a bit jumpy.

I just hope it makes sense.

The thing is, I think I've noticed some fairly significant positive changes in myself as I've started to "come back to life" since ending my ECT treatments.

You know I've always been a perfectionist.  To the extreme.  How I would go to any lengths to be perfectly in shape, have a perfectly clean house, be the perfect wife and mom, live my religion perfectly, and so on.  Or, at least to appear to be perfect in each of those areas.

And then I'd hate myself for falling short.  And for being a fake and a hypocrite.

So, a friend gave me an audio book just before I moved, called Daring Greatly.  I'd only just begun listening to it shortly before ECT began.  Which of course means that I completely forgot everything I'd read.

So, I picked it up again this past week and just started over at the beginning.  While I don't really remember having read it before, I do remember the feeling I had while listening to it.  Mostly, I just remember cringing with shame and fear as I listened to it the first time.

The author talks all about the value of being vulnerable.  And of letting go of the feeling of "not being _____ enough".

It was like she had been watching me go about my life and she was talking straight to me.

What she said made sense.  I knew she was right.  And that my life would be better if I made the changes she was talking about.

And it terrified me.

And then I went through ECT and completely forgot everything.  But, as I've been listening to it over again this week, I'm remembering those feelings and discovering that they aren't there this time.

Last week, while I was out for a run, I had a little epiphany.  It was as cars were driving past me while I ran at my current about-45-seconds-slower-than-before pace and I realized that I didn't feel the desperate need to speed up, so they would know how fast I can be.  I mean, the thought to do so briefly popped into my head, but then I had this little conversation with myself:

"If they stopped and I told them what I've been through over the last month and a half, they would not only not judge me for being slow, but they would think I am totally awesome for all that I am doing."

A little conceited?  Perhaps.  But, it's actually a conversation I've had with myself numerous times before and since that moment.

But, it was while I was running that I gave pause to acknowledge how incredibly out of character that is for me, and then to ponder why it's happening and why I am okay with all of this.  And the truth is, I haven't really come up with a satisfactory answer yet.

But, I think a part of it is this--for one reason or another, I've found myself opening up and being honest about how I'm doing and what's going on with me since we decided to do ECT.  I think that is in part because we had to tell so many people what was happening because it required so much help.  And then my friend asked me to write this post for her website, and suddenly, it seemed like everyone knew.

And not one person judged me poorly.

No one came to me with any negative feedback.  No one questioned why I was so messed up.  No one told me I was wrong in any way.  No one was mean.

Not one person.

Instead, I received this overwhelming outpouring of love and kindness and support.  And, this is something that still baffles me, I received an overwhelming expression of admiration and even appreciation.

Whoa.

And I think that (plus, the epiphany shared in my last post) is a big part of why I'm finding it easier to be kind to myself.  And to let go of the need to constantly impress everyone.

And now that I've begun being honest and everyone knows that my life is not perfect, I feel like I have to continue being honest.  Because no one is going to believe that all of the sudden my life is magically okay and I am doing everything perfectly again.  So, it's kind of like I'm being forced into this vulnerability.  And I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that being vulnerable is awesome all of the time.  It's still scary.  I still come away from most social situations questioning much of what I said and did.  But then the feedback comes in, and it's still positive.

So, my plan is to just keep on keeping on.  Because, even though it's still scary (I'm hopeful that it won't always be), it's also still easier.  I get to spend my time focusing on the things that I need to be doing, that are most important in my recovery, or for my family.  I used to have to spend my time working on all of those surface issues, so that it would appear to everyone else that everything was perfect with perfect me.

I have to tell you that this way of living is so much more comfortable.  And I am pretty sure it also leaves a lot more room for finding happiness and for sharing that happiness with the people I love the most.

I like this personality shift.  Wherever it came from, I'm grateful for it.  Maybe ECT didn't work the way it's supposed to, but it would appear that it's made a difference in my life for the better anyway.

A difference that is good enough, it's even worth losing the last several months of my life to amnesia.

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Day 103: Reluctantly

I'm not sure where to begin today.  I feel like I have been going through a very personal experience and broadcasting it to the world all along the way.  For the most part, that has been because I have felt prompted too, or because many people have been asking questions.  Sometimes though, I think it's just because my new meds are making me a little manic, and I don't have much of a filter when I'm in this state.

So, I am frequently worrying that I have shared too much.  That I am making some people uncomfortable and sharing things that no one really wants to know.  But then, someone approaches me to thank me for being courageous and honest and expresses some way in which it has helped them.  Honestly, this surprises me every time and I don't really understand how it is helping, but I am grateful for the opportunity to help anyone else going through a hard time.

That being said, what I am about to share is something that feels very personal.  I shared it with HH this morning, bawling the entire time, and then oddly enough, which actually discussed my sharing this with someone else.  I told him I couldn't.  It's just too close to the heart.

And then I was sitting in church a couple hours later and I felt so strongly that I need to share it.  However, I think I can do that without sharing the part that is most personal that I think actually would be too much.  We'll see how my filter does. :)

I have really been struggling the past couple months with the issue of faith.  Not in the way I typically would.  Usually, under my current circumstances I would be doubting everything.  Thinking that God might exist, but He can't possibly love me or He would never allow me to wade through so much struggle, or make HH be stuck with so much misery and stress.

But, I have surprised myself by remaining faithful.  I know that God exists and I know that He loves me.  I know that He has a plan for me and that this is a part of it.  I know that I am learning and growing things that there must be no better way for me to learn than to go through all of this mess.

The problem arises when I feel that no progress is being made.  That in a lot of ways, things are actually getting worse.  So, my conclusion has been that I must be lacking in someway.  I felt that my even though my faith is intact, it must still be incomplete because I have had so many blessings (in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we believe in Priesthood blessings just like those given by the Savior and His disciples, and His prophets throughout the scriptures), prayed so many prayers, and had so many prayers prayed on my behalf--and yet, things are not improving.

So, I have been praying the past couple of months, asking what more I can/should be doing.  How I can increase my faith and what actions I can be taking to make things better.

But, the answer hasn't really come.  I've just felt confused and frustrated and inadequate.  And discouraged.  So discouraged.

Fast forward to this morning.  HH and I teach the 12-year old Sunday School class at church.  Normally, we prepare well in advance.  But, lately HH has been so busy taking care of me and everything else, he doesn't always remember.  And I just plain don't remember, plus this week I've been manic, so every time I think about preparing our lesson, my mind has moved on to something else within about 45 seconds.  So, we were doing our last minute preparations of putting it all together, this morning.  This paragraph was me trying to assuage my guilt--can you tell?

Anyway, as a part of it, I was reading Elder Jeffrey R. Holland's talk from October 2013 General Conference, "Lord, I Believe".  I strongly encourage you to click on that link and either listen to or read his address.  It hit me profoundly the day he first delivered it and it hit me profoundly today.

It was the answer to my months of pleading and praying.  He shares the account found in St. Mark, about the father of a young boy who I am convinced has a mental illness of some sort.  He is constantly putting himself in danger and it is terrifyingly stressful for his parents.  His father pleads with the Lord to heal his son, or to at least help them in any small way.  (I was reading this talk out loud to HH, and I was bawling already by this point, as I have prayed the same prayer so many times.)

“If thou canst do any thing,” he said, “have compassion on us, and help us.
“Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.
“And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.”1
And that was my answer.  Elder Holland goes on to use this example to teach us how we should handle our faith and our questions.  He teaches that it is completely okay to have limited faith.  I could seriously just quote his whole talk here.  I'll just share the quotes that helped me the most this morning.

 "In moments of fear or doubt or troubling times, hold the ground you have already won, even if that ground is limited...When those moments come and issues surface, the resolution of which is not immediately forthcoming, hold fast to what you already know and stand strong until additional knowledge comes. It was of this very incident, this specific miracle, that Jesus said, “If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.”6 The size of your faith or the degree of your knowledge is not the issue—it is the integrity you demonstrate toward the faith you do have and the truth you already know."

"...Be as candid about your questions as you need to be; life is full of them on one subject or another. But if you and your family want to be healed, don’t let those questions stand in the way of faith working its miracle."

"...So be kind regarding human frailty—your own as well as that of those who serve with you in a Church led by volunteer, mortal men and women. Except in the case of His only perfect Begotten Son, imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. That must be terribly frustrating to Him, but He deals with it. So should we. "

And in that moment I knew that what I am doing is enough.  My faith is enough.  I don't need to feel frantic, or stressed that I am somehow failing the Lord in His expectations of me.  I am so far from perfect.  And my efforts to live the gospel the way I normally strive to and to serve others have fallen very very short of what I would like, or even what I have managed in the past.  But the Lord is satisfied with where I am at right now.  The fact that my struggles are not finding a resolution is not a reflection on lacking on my part.  He knows that things are hard and all He wants right now is to comfort and carry me through this.  But He can't do that when I am keeping a distance because I feel inadequate and undeserving.

The truth is, I will always be inadequate and undeserving.  Even if I was capable of living the way I would like to be right now, I would still fall hopelessly short.  But that is irrelevant.  He loves me and He offers His love and acceptance and approval, regardless of whether I deserve it, or not.

I am enough.  My worth is 100% separate from the status of my mental health and the progress (or lack thereof) at finding wellness again.

And I can have peace in the midst of the most awful and horrifying circumstances.  I can wade through darkness I could have never imagined possible and know that somehow, someday, somewhere it will be okay.  His hand is outstretched, waiting to take mine, and to walk with me through it all, even at the scariest of times.

And my faith is enough that I can take His hand.  I can turn to Him when I feel confused and hopeless and scared.  I can say to Him, "If thou canst do any thing, have compassion on [me], and help [me]...Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."  And I know that He will.

The answer to this prayer was painfully long in coming.  But I'm so grateful for it.  I was reaching a point where I didn't know how I would be able to continue.  But now I have what I need to keep pressing on.  And it is enough.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Day 102: Remember Me?

Because I don't.

Not really.

I've forgotten just about everything that has happened since we moved back in May.  For real.  I keep discovering new things in my house.  And I have to re-meet people who live around here.  And the kids have to keep reminding me of things that have happened in our life.

Yesterday, I discovered that we have a swing set in our backyard.

So fun.

And we're not sure how well the ECT worked.  We think it still needs to clear out of my head a bit and then we'll notice more benefit from it.  But, I haven't made the drastic turn around that some people get.

It has been a neat experience in that I have never felt so cared for and connected to the rest of society.  Everywhere I go people are asking how I'm doing and telling me they are praying for me.  And I truly have felt all of the prayers.  So, to those who have been a part of that, thank you.

It's also been nice because we've just kept being honest and open about everything.  No more secrets. And as awkward and uncomfortable as that can be, it's also nice to just be open.  It's easier to laugh at where I'm at that to cover up the pain and pretend that my life is perfect.

But, I am really looking forward to getting all of this anesthesia out of my system, so I can tell how much the process worked.  So I can stop forgetting everything the moment after it happens.  And so I can stop needing a long nap in the middle of every day.

I am just really ready to be a capable person again!  At least somewhat.  I want to not be totally overwhelmed by the prospect of being a mom to my kids.  Or making dinner.  Or laundry soap.  Or grocery shopping.

But mostly, I just want to be happy.  So, I'm trying really hard to practice patience.  With my life and myself.  I'm trying hard to tell myself that it is okay to be this new me.  To be flawed and to not get everything done.  And this is all going to be just fine, right?  I am going to get through this okay.  Because I have this amazing support group behind me every step of the way and, miraculously, they don't appear to have any intentions of giving up on me.

How did I get to be so very blessed?

Monday, September 29, 2014

Day 101: 10-12 Seizures This Month? Sign Me Up!

You may have noticed (but probably didn't because I unintentionally do this all the time) that I skipped a day.  That's because I've been working on a different post for a month now.  But, it's a really... I'm not finding a word to describe it.  It's just that it's not something I'm sure I want to share.  Not because it's awful or horrifying.  Mostly, just because it's not happy.  In an irreconcilable way.

On to this post.

And seizures!

Induced seizures!

There.  I just wanted you to read something enthusiastic on this blog for a change.

Here's the nitty gritty of it:

Medication isn't working for me.  I've been on a quite a few.  It's pretty much somewhat informed guesswork.  There are so many meds and every individual is so different and usually it's a combination of drugs that ends up working--it's just a matter of finding the right cocktail for me.  Since this is a relatively new ride for me to be on, I was assuming that I was traveling the normal path, headed the right direction, and there really wasn't an alternative, so we had to just keep adding, dropping, and switching doses around on my meds.

Don't get me wrong--this has been a lot of fun.  We found out (through, surprise, guesswork!) that two of my medications taken at certain levels caused my limbs and extremities to go numb and tingly.  So bad that one night I woke up to go to the bathroom and fell on the floor because my leg was gone completely.  After the blood panel and MRI turned up normal, we decided to adjust the meds.  And honestly, I'm grateful it was such a simple fix.

There have been a lot of other fun side effects.  But, I won't make you all jealous by going into detail here.

All the while, my actual bipolar symptoms seem to be getting worse.  We don't know how much is circumstantial and how much could be from meds, because this is all guesswork, in case you didn't know.

My last few appointments with my psychiatrist were interspersed with several pauses of him just looking at me for a while before saying, "I'm really worried about you."

Which pretty much just made me feel awkward.  And I always feel that most things said by psychiatrists and therapists (except my current therapist who is anything but typical), are kind of meant to make me think or feel something that they think will fix me.

I'm pretty sure I'm a really fun patient to treat.

Anyway, it turns out that he actually meant it, and he started to push for something called ECT.  I told my therapist and he thought it was too extreme and tried to kind of persuade me against it.

Fast forward, and apparently everyone agrees that I really need it.

ECT is basically induced seizures.  3 times a week for around 4 weeks.  Because someone somewhere noticed that people with epilepsy frequently experience an elevated mood after the worst of the aftermath is over.

Who knew, right?

I'll be under general anesthesia and given a muscle relaxant, so I'll be spared the worst of it.  But, I'll have really bad headaches and feel nauseated.  And I can't drive.  And I'm supposed to have round the clock care.  Even on my off days.

Oh, and I probably won't remember much of the month of October.  And other memories from my past might become hazy, as well.

A part of me is desperate for this and sad and scared that I have to wait until this weekend to begin.  Medication has about a 40% success rate, while ECT has a 70-90% success rate.  It won't cure me, but it will take the worst of it away and possibly make me more receptive to meds.  I can't imagine how great it would be to feel better than I do right now.  And to not have to fight so hard against dark things.

But, I'm also sort of totally terrified.  Not really of the seizures themselves.  But, what if it doesn't work?  What if I'm in that 10-30% who don't respond?  Where do we go after that?  There are a couple other procedures, but they sound freaky.  As in actually inserting stuff into your brain, freaky.

And I don't want to disappoint anyone else.  People are making some really big sacrifices to help us be able to make this happen.  I don't want it to be a waste.

And HH has had his hopes pinned all over this pretty much since he found out about it.  I don't know how I'll handle his disappointment if this doesn't help as much as he's hoping it will.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

Day 99: Lethargy

I've written so many blog posts in my head over the past month or two.  But I would have had to write them from my phone.  And I never felt up to that effort.

And now that I'm here, I'm not sure what to write.

But I feel like I have to because I've wanted to for so long.  There's something about typing it all down that just helps.

It's been a long road.  I guess it will continue to be.  And maybe it is for everyone.

It's been so many ups and downs.  Well, mostly downs.  But, it's been kind of a crazy ride since I left the hospital.  They've changed my meds a few times and I'm learning that that can be a difficult transition.  I just got put on a medication that kind of knocks me out.  Which is awesome at night (I've slept through the night every night since I started it--that NEVER happens.  Usually I'm up several times).  But I have to take it at morning and noon as well.  And that's rough.

It's been building every day and the past couple of days it has left me completely lethargic.  I don't want to get up.  Showering is a chore.  And doing my hair and make up?  Bleh.  Forget cleaning and cooking, too.

It's kind of a mess.

We have a few really big things going on this week and I just don't want to have anything to do with them.

I just want to do nothing.

There's not much of the depression involved in this.  Which is a good thing.  Because that would probably push me over the edge.

But I feel the depression creeping in.  And I'm worried what will happen.  I talked to my doctor about it, and he said I can switch up how I take it--more at night, less during the day.  I forgot to do that today.  And at some point, the benefits of the medication will kick in.  And the sleepiness factor might lessen.

And maybe I'll be okay.

I did have a few good days last week.  Not really the hypomania.  Just normal, stable happiness.  I don't really know how to describe how fabulous it was.  I'm so sad it's over.

My new therapist (I have a new new therapist) is an expert on bipolar and bipolar II.  This is fantastic because he is teaching me so much and it's amazing to understand why I think and behave the way I do, and to learn ways to mitigate the negative to some degree.

But, sometimes the information is hard to take.

Like when he told me that someone with Bipolar II typically spends 90% of life in the depression phase and 10% in the hypomanic.

So, I'm hoping that my good days aren't really over yet, but that they're just being overshadowed by my new med.  I don't want to be headed down again.  I just came from there.  And I don't like it.

I better close this super cheery post because it's almost dinner time and I'm the only one here who can make it.