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Witty, neurotic/psychotic,
20-something from Chicago conquering mental illness one vodka induced blackout and one blog at a time.

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Raw

September 6, 2010

I sit here finishing my 6th (?) diet coke and black cherry rum cocktail… I feel raw but numb.  Unappreciated but undeserving.  Silent but loud.

The constant contradictions can be overwhelming especially after one too many drinks, but I cant help but feel like the victim.  I am giving things my all, or what I believe is my all and not receiving enough to fill the void.  I give my services and gifts but never my wholehearted intimate feelings.  I fill the void and empty love.  A love that is true but empty.

One day things will work themselves out but for now its a constant battle between myself and the emptiness.

Therapy Tuesday - Volume 31

August 25, 2010

I’ve wandered back into the world of SSRIs. It’s a fact that I do not like admitting. I thought I could do it alone. I thought I was “cured”. Instead I am back in the never-ending game of finding a med to balance me out and a therapist to hear me out.

I have grown a lot emotionally over the last 2 years, but its difficult to admit I haven’t grown enough. My self-awareness can only take me so far. Putting Armani in tears not once but twice in 24 hours was the last straw. My need to self-sabotage, black and white thinking, wild mood swings, and self-hate were attacking me at full force.

I have vowed to make this round of treatment different. I refuse to settle for less than 100% and not give 100% back. I have never unveiled my true self, feelings, or past to even those I have went to for help. It’s different. I am completely uncensored in hope for an answer and treatment plan. I want to uncover the source of my never-ending state of turmoil.

I have struggled to deal with my own issues without medical assistance for the last 1.5 years due to losing my job and lack of medical insurance coverage. I was beyond elated to make a psychiatrist appointment using my new medical insurance coverage. Honestly, elated is an understatement

I randomly chose a psychiatrist that was located close to my work. A new psychiatrist for a new start. I didn’t particularly have anything against my previous psych but I did settle for feeling less than I should have and was not always honest with him.

I wanted and needed a fresh new beginning…

The appointment went well. Tears were shed. I do not deny I am an emotional trainwreck. I felt comfortable speaking to her but couldn’t help but feel as if she thought I was lying, holding back, or exagerating. This was probably more my self-doubt than anything else. I didn’t mention past diagnoses. She didnt diagnose me. I was okay with that. I didn’t ask. I didn’t need an answer. At least at that moment.

We stumbled through my list of previous prescriptions dating back to 1998. The decision was made that I would try Zoloft, an SSRI that I hadn’t tried in the past and continue taking Ativan. In all honesty, I scoffed at the Zoloft and was unsure if I would follow through with my promise to try it.

I ended the session by proactively asking for a reputable therapist who wouldn’t give in to my tricky manipulation as the last therapist I saw did.

After much swaying to take the Zoloft or not I decided my new approach to becoming well would only work if I went in with an open mind and was honest. I am not new to the SSRI scene. I have taken Effexor, Prozac, Paxil, and Lexapro in the past. My body is not tolerable at the beginning of the prescribed regimen. Knowing this I decided to begin the medication on a Friday and by Sunday morning I felt like death. I was struck with extreme anxiety, fatigue, and a throbbing headache. The headache faded by Monday morning but the anxiety and fatigue continued throughout the week. I emailed my doctor asking for a longer acting benzo as the 1 mg Ativan I was taking twice daily was not cutting it. She prescribed Klonopin .50 mg which I began taking that Wednesday.

I felt more focused, patient, under control, and outgoing by the end of the 1st week of the beginning dose but the anxiety was still strong, racing thoughts, and splitting were still evident.

I increased the dose this past Friday. I am feeling just as anxious and as fatigued as I did when beginning my 1st dose. Although, now my sex drive is lacking and I spend the majority of the day nauseated.

I fully intend to give Zoloft a fair chance but my promise to accept nothing but 100% in this course of treatment is my intention.


Its a self-fulfilling prophecy

September 4, 2009

You probably will not understand.  As I cannot even put my thoughts and feelings into words.

Here we go again.  I must stop.  I know this. 

I’m wallowing in three letters, BPD.  I’m going too far again. 

I’ve been acting out lately, wallowing in my personality disorder, taking things too far again. I push the limits because I can.  I take another drink because I can.  I act out looking for approval.  I become a mess at any given moment, even though I really don’t have to be.  I know I have the control but I choose not to use it.That’s just the way I am. Maybe I can change it. I look at myself and ridicule.  I then laugh in that high, sarcastic, crazy way. 

 

Remaining stagnant is something I cannot be content with.  I attempt to relish in the good that God brings my way.  I then give in.  I crave disruption.  I crave self-deprecation. 

yet another reminder

August 29, 2009

prescribed pills can kill.

I believe its one of the many lessons in life that is finally sinking in.

Unfortunately, for many this realization is too little too late and lifes are ended unexpectedly. 

Prescription drugs have always been part of my life whether to treat my depression, anxiety, or allergies.  I have been popping something for as long as I can remember.

I would pop without thought.  The pill bottle displayed my name.  There was no harm being done.  I didn’t abuse the antidepressant and allergy medication that I was on at the moment.

What I did begin abusing in my late teenage years was ephedra.  I found it quite amazing that I didnt even need a prescription.  THIS HAD TO BE SAFE.  That was until I took so many after taking nyquil after a bad bad breakup.  It ended in a blackout and me passing out head first on a bowling alley.

Ephedra became illegal.

My early twenties were rough.  I was always on the go and the girl who would party Thursday and Saturday not stopping.  It wore on me. I was at a height of self-sabotage. I felt like I needed to meet everyones expectations of me.  I was tempted with cocaine and on occasion I used it.  I used it to conform.  I used it to please.

Luckily for me it did not become an addiction…

I then realized taking 180mg of Prozac daily would send me into a slightly manic fit.  Energy galore.  I eventually stopped after reading up on the internet.

I had a bout with Vicodin ES after my wisdom teeth were pulled when I was 23.  I was prescribed 30 Vicodin ES with one refill.  I finished that bottle and called the dentist for more.  I quickly became fond of taking 2 Vicodin with 2 shots of Vodka.  This went on for about 3 months with the end resulting in passing out behind the wheel and creating $2,000 of damage to my car.  Thankfully… no one was hurt and I was the only person involved.  I must note that the Vicodin I had consumed was legal and prescribed by the same dentist.

I had to stop.  It was hard.  I did. I remember the shakes and nausea I experienced.  I couldnt imagine the detox of someone who was on it for much longer than I.  My depression engulfed me and my anxiety worsened.  Obviously… as I no longer had a crutch.

I had my 1st panic attack when I was 23.  The abusive relationship I was in triggered them all.  I was suffering from on average 1 a day.  It was crippling.  I began seeing a new psychiatrist who prescrived Ativan 1mg 3-4 times a day as needed.  Yes… on a monthly basis I held a bottle of 120 - 1mg pills of Ativan in my hand.  Enough to kill 3 people…

I rarely took the little white pills correctly.  I had many occasions where I would simply blackout from taking too many.

The scary thing is I saw nothing wrong with this then… I was numb.  I was safe.  I thought.

A summer day in 2003 put me over the edge.  I felt backed into a corner.  The only thing I had in my control was the many bottles of pills I had.  I knew what would open their eyes.  This was my thinking then…  After a concoction of Prozac, Ativan, Tyelenol 3, and Tylenol PMs I was in the ER drinking charcoal and having a lengthy visit to the 5th floor (crazy floor) to prove that I wasnt trying to kill myself but trying to make my Mom listen being manipulative.

It could have been an accidental suicide.  I lived.

For different reasons, I began seeing a new psychiatrist who weaned me off of the Ativan.  It was rough.  I never and still do feel unsafe without having a few on hand.  Losing my Ativan subscription was like losing a good friend.  I was left devastated and without the strength to live.

Thank goodness for therapy…

This past winter was rough for me between losing my job, best friend, and being stolen from.  I was a wreck.  Depression at its worst.  What pulled me out?  Tramadol.  I was popping 5-7 Tramadol a day for about 2 weeks.  I wouldnt sleep because I couldnt.  I felt the only way I could go on living was with the assistance of the Tramadol.

Then something clicked… I knew I was strong enough to let go of my need to abuse prescription drugs to live.  I knew there were consequences with the worst being death.  I did not want to die.

I still struggle today.  On occasion I will pop an Ativan but I will NOT abuse them.  If I am in pain I will pop a few Tramadol but I will NOT abuse them and I will notify SOMEONE of what I had taken, in case something happens.

It’s rough and unfortunately each new death of a celebrity ODing on RX meds is opening my eyes wider and wider.

 

 

out of the darkness

June 28, 2009

I didnt register or walk but wanted to take out the time to speak highly of those who did.

They walked down Chicago’s lakefront on Saturday night beginning at Soldier Field.  They walked for a purpose…

My cousins Girl Scout troops made flashlight pins for some of the participants and setup a cheering section for a couple of hours at the beginning of the walk.

It’s refreshing to see that perhaps suicide can be prevented by involing younger children in experiences such as this walk.

I believe the answer to prevention of anything is EDUCATING!

I plan to make it a PRIORITY to participate in the walk next year and look forward to many more walks, fundraisers, and campaigns that destigmatize mental illness and prevent suicide.

Here are a couple of stories I found around the web.

Therapy Tuesday - Volume 27

April 8, 2009

Everyone loves Etsy.  I have yet to meet a person that hasnt found something fantastic in one of the many etsy stores.

A couple of weeks back, I found this beautiful, yet simple gem:

The bracelets can be found in this friendly seller’s shop SparklyThingsbyBon.  What makes these bracelets even more fabulous?  A portion of the proceeds go to support FPDA.  I purchased one for myself and one for Candid Beauty my “always there for me” BPD friend.  They are beautiful reminders of not being alone fighting BPD.  A day can be a constant struggle but this simple reminder might be what gets you through the day.

I also shamelesly stole the above pics from Candid Beauty’s blog.  I know she wont mind :)

neurotic

April 3, 2009

I self-medicate with food.

I self-medicate with starvation.

I self-medicate with pills.

I self-medicate with alcohol.

why? Is it my inability to self-soothe? The uncomfortabel feeling of being in my own skin? Anxiety?

not just another borderline

March 14, 2009

I have talked about the featured guest blogger in previous posts such as here, here, and here.  She is someone I hold dearly in my heart.  She has a special place.  I have said it before and will say it again.  She is an AMAZING woman!  She blogs here.  Check her out!

So here I am, a guest blogger for my girl, K.  When she asked me to write a post for her blog, I was both flattered and apprehensive.  While I love to write, I don’t know how well it comes out when I am under pressure.  Wait, not that K is pressuring me.  It’s the expectation I put on myself to pen a witty and insightful post that has me a little nervous.  What if I come off sounding like a self absorbed whiner? Or worse, what if I don’t leave an impression at all?
 
These are the thoughts that go through the brain of someone who has battled with herself from the time she can remember.  Instead of just letting the words flow, thoughts turn into worries and worries turn into frustrations. Round and round it goes, feeding and recycling off of itself.  It’s a perfect example of how mental illness can trick your rational mind into a frenzy for no reason. It’s also a sign of my insecurity, which I will readily admit, is a problem.  I care far too much about what other people think.
 
So, after obsessing for a few days, I decided to simply sit down, and type whatever came into my brain.
 
Those of you who are devoted reader of K’s blog already know about her struggle with BPD.  She manages to capture some of her worst moments with a sense of humor and  wit, which I find refreshing and bold.  Those who can put a clever spin on the serious topics in life have my admiration.  I am more of a stereotypical tortured soul who agonizes over not only the serious side of life, but the lighter side too.  However, I didn’t want to bring a dark cloud into K’s blog, and I am trying to broaden my horizons both as a person, and as a writer. The following is a small collection of tips, lessons, and anecdotes from my own life that I hope will at the very least, peak your interest.
 
Candid Beauty’s Tips for Crazy Girls

- The internet is a great tool for  forming friendships and relationships.  It’s not just for  ‘ugly fat losers who can’t get a date.’  Not only did I meet my husband in a chatroom, but some of my closest friends were found online.  Fuck people who judge your chosen method of communication.  
 
- Waiting until you are drunk to address an issue is NEVER a good idea.  You look foolish when your bluff is called as you slur your words, not noticing that you can’t keep your balance.  You also stand a much greater chance of getting punched by the tough girl you are targeting, before you have a chance to pretend that you know how to retaliate.  This is especially important if you are new to the area and still making a first impression on people.  Coming into a social clique and stirring up the pecking order is hard enough, but when you  address it drunkenly in front of everyone , you forget that no one is on your side yet.
 
- Giving relationship advice to some  girlfriends can backfire.  Say you have a really good friend, who happens to be a few years younger than you and she’s having issues with her boyfriend who should be mature, given his age, but isn’t.  If you become the person she runs to when she needs to vent, eventually, you’ll end up telling her that she deserves better and he’s a dickhead and blah, blah, blah.  Gues what happens then?  After a girl’s night, she goes home and unleashes her anger at her man, yelling every not -so -nice thing you’ve ever said about him, and citing you as her source.  All of a sudden, you are in the middle of something that was never your problem to begin with.  She and he wind up temporarily making up, and you are no longer a welcome friend because it appears you’ve been trying to stir up trouble, when all you were trying to do was be a shoulder to lean on. 
 
- Don’t fish for compliments. People aren’t  there solely to boost your fragile ego. It gets old, and your blazing insecurity turns people off.  However, don’t overcompensate for that insecurity by being purposely brash and demanding to constantly be center of attention.  Then you just look childish. And crazier than you really are.  If you shut your trap, compliments will come your way. And they won’t be forced.
 
- Say what you mean.  When you tell him that you don’t mind if he goes out drinking with the guys, make sure that you really DON’T mind.  Brewing inside because you erroneously think that he is trying to ‘escape’ your insanity for an evening will not lead to a cheery reunion.  At 4 a.m. when he comes in stumbling, greeting him with rage is going to cause a fight.  And it ain’t gonna be pretty.  Your neediness and jealousy won’t go over well. In fact, it might just cause him to re-evaluate whether he really wants a basketcase in his life.  P.S. Hinting and talking around an issue is NOT saying what you mean, and it’s a good way to confuse the hell out of the person you are trying to communicate with.  Being passive aggressive and sarcastic rather than direct isn’t going to get the point across either.  Instead, you’ll come off like a bitch, and if he calls you on it, his point will just be further proved by your reaction.
 
- Testing someone’s love and devotion is a shitty thing to do.  Avoid this manipulative behavior at all costs.  Don’t make empty threats about ending the relationship when that’s the last thing you want.  Don’t test how much crazy he can take from you in one day.  And never purposely hurt yourself to get his attention.  It will scare him to his core and you may wind up in a hospital psych ward.  It’s not his fault that you are a bottomless pit of need, and don’t know how to ask for help.  
 
- Slamming a door will not end an argument. It will only prolong it.  Try it. I dare you to see how well that goes over.
 
- It’s ok to have positive affirmations written on post-its, stuck all over your bedroom.  Though it may feel silly at first,  it’s proven that things stick in your brain when you read them repeatedly out loud.  If you are feeling really brave, try saying that shit when you look in the mirror. If you can get to a point where that doesn’t feel awkward, you’ve already conquered a huge part of the problem.
 
- Learn to appreciate the male reproductive organs.  Nothing turns a man on more than a woman who enjoys playing with his rod.  It won’t bite, though it may spit a little.  Penises are pretty cool things when you know what makes them stand firm. As a bonus, you realize the power a woman can posess with sexual prowess.  All women should be aware and in touch with the power of the mere suggestion of pussy.  Just don’t abuse the power.

- Don’t define yourself by any disorder or illness, be it physical or mental.  Two things can happen.  First, you sell yourself short and focus on all the negatives.  Second, you become trapped and victimized which makes change seem impossible.  You are not the sum of your problems, unless that’s what you believe.
 
- Remember that the world does not revolve around you, no matter how much it seems like it does.  If you constantly pick the longest line at Target, it’s not a conspiracy to make you annoyed. You just pick long lines.  If you’re late and stuck in traffic, the old woman in front of you who can’t drive is not trying to piss you off.  Flipping her the bird when you finally pass her is just plain mean and unnecessary.  If the girl at Forever 21 gives you a funny look, ignore it and assume she’s having a bad day.  Or, just maybe, stop and look around.  Is she even looking at you? 
 
- Finally, if you are a person who has to be right about everything, you can try to drown out the other point of view by raising your voice louder, and then even louder, so that no one can get another word in, but you wind up looking like a boisterous asshole. Even if you are right.
 

All EXCELLENT tips and tips I am glad I read before my little weekend away with Frappe.  I might just have to print this out.  For serious.

scarlet letters

February 26, 2009

  • I take pills to stabilize.
  • I have panic attacks and often take Ativan to prevent them in situations that I know will trigger one.
  • I need therapy.
  • I am crazy.
  • Did you notice all of the books on my bookshelf? In particular the ones dealing with mental illness.
  • I have a friend. My friends name is BPD and its been proven that this friend will fuck up what we have going on if I let it.

It’s hard. I have never had to divulge my BPD to a significant other.  I told ExAss I struggled with bouts of depression and panic attacks.  I was ashamed but it wasnt BPD. BPD is intricate and not as “well known” as other mental illnesses.  It requires an explanation.  The explanation entails shame.  ExAss and I were together when I was diagnosed. Our relationship falling apart due to my “love” for self-deprecation, self-sabotage, fear of abandonment, and the list goes on were the reasons why I asked for help. I don’t think I would have dug as deep as I did if it was solely for bettering myself, sad but true.

I don’t want to tell him. I don’t know how to tell him. I do know that I have to tell him. I can’t go on letting a “huge” part of me and “us” be unknown because unfortunately BPD affects everyone close to me.  The closer the person the harder the hit.

He has seen signs and brought them to my attention. “Why are you trying to pick a fight?” “When will you ever believe that I am not going anywhere anytime soon?” “Why must you put yourself down” “Cant you just be?”

Those questions all have one answer… BPD.

I have no choice but to attempt to explain in the least “feel sorry for me” approach about my dear friend, BPD. I backed myself into a corner by telling him I write about a specific topic on Tuesdays here on my blog. I told him I would rather not talk about it over the phone. The topic is planned to be discussed tonight.

Perhaps subconsciously I know. I know a relationship with someone not knowing of the issues I face is impossible.

I know what I fear the most.  I fear the inevitable.  The feelings of shame, worthlessness, despair, and fear of abandonment following the days after my secret leaves my lips.  He will never be able to tell me “It’s okay” and “I am not going anywhere” enough.

I hope he forgets.

 

Therapy Tuesday - Volume 22

January 28, 2009

I ran into pamphlets promoting Chicago’s Out of the Darkness walk at the gym and tanning salon.  I found it refreshing.  I am always mouthing on my blog about mental illness and the stigma and seeing the displays promoting the walk at common areas I find in my daily life was a breath of fresh air.

According to the foundation that sponsors the event, about 1 million people attempt suicide each year.  This makes suicide the leading cause of death among adults ages 18 to 64.   The leading cause of suicide is depression.

Mental illness cannot be ignored.  Depression cannot be ignored. Suicide cannot be ignored.

I will definitely be registering.  Check out the site for other walks being held throughout the US.