Being Normal

Every work day I wake up and go to work.  I don’t really think much about life and what is going on around me until I start to head home for the day.  Usually on my way home, I reflect back on the day and my actions.  I ask myself, how did I do today?  Did I have any brief manic episodes, or how did work, and the people around me, make me feel today?  This is usually when I ponder how I am handling my medication changes.

I’ve been on the Seroquel now for just over a month.  The mania has gotten to the point where I am settled and normal.  I’m not manic and I’m not depressed…I’m just…normal.  It’s an odd feeling really.  I’ve lost those moments of extreme elation coupled with strange eccentricities and I’ve evened out.  I don’t know what to do with myself now.

Not only gone are the manic cycles, but so are the depressive cycles.  Again, this is another strange feeling.  I used to wear my depression like it was a second skin; it was a way to protect myself from further damage.  Now it’s gone and I don’t know what to do.  I can’t cry anymore, I can’t feel sad anymore.  I’m…normal.

I keep using this word normal over and over again.  What is normal?  Normal to me is bland.  It’s a state of no feeling.  I don’t know if I’m happy or sad now.  What should I be?  Should I be happy the medication is working and no longer causing me to be bizarre around my friends?  Or should I be happy that the medication has finally taken away the relentless sadness that has been enveloping me for months, even years?

This is why people with mood cycling disorders do not continue their medication for long.  We miss the highs from the mania.  It’s like a drug or a sirens call to us.  We crave these feelings because that is when we feel our best.  We hate this… this… normal feeling.  We don’t want to be normal.  If we could remain manic the rest of our lives and not hurt ourselves, or the people around us, we would find a way.  But sadly, we cannot.  Being in a manic state, while fun and exciting, is potentially harmful to ourselves and those we care about.  While manic, we don’t think about the effects we have on ourselves or surroundings – it doesn’t matter.  What matters is right now and the good time we are having.

While I am glad that I am normal, I’m struggling to cope.  This is a new feeling for me.  I equate it to being on a roller coaster and then getting off.  You want to go again right away because it was fun, but then there was also that long wait in line that takes an hour.  We want the fun – we want to get back on and do it all over again – but we don’t want the wait that goes along with it so we move on and hope something else comes along that will capture our interest.

Where Do I Belong?

Last night I was having a particularly low night.  It wasn’t too low, and it was short, but still the thoughts of vulnerability were there.  I snuggled with my stuffie bear I named Gunnor and wondered, “Where do I belong?”

I had a friend that I was close with for a while and we had great communication, but no more.  He’s off doing his own thing and I’m left behind.  I miss this interaction we had and the critical conversations we often shared.  When I had a thought or an idea I wanted to explore, I would send him an e-mail and get a logical, well thought out, response back that challenged my opinion.  I enjoy this type of mental stimulation and I get bored without it.   I haven’t been able to find this type of communication with anyone else and I miss it.  In a way, I feel lost without it and I wonder if I’ll ever find someone that shares the same motivation to learn and share knowledge the same way he did.

All of these thoughts made me depressed but I still had an overall sense that I was okay.  The Seroquel my psychiatrist prescribed has started to take its effect along with the Lexapro I’ve been taking.  I noticed that I’m much calmer and not so manic lately.  My moods feel as though they are stabilizing now and not swinging so wildly like they were.  I know I’m sad but I still have underlying feelings of happiness and the feeling that everything will be okay.  It’s strange how medication can alter our neurochemistry and make us feel this way.

I’ve also noticed that my introversion is becoming stronger now that my disposition is mellowing out.  I find more and more that I don’t need, or want, to talk to anyone.  I sit at work content to do my job while interacting with as few people as possible.  In the evenings, I go home and make my dinner then read while being satisfied to live in my own bubble.  The word truly is “contentment”.  I am not starving for outside communication, or the need to interact with anyone else.  I am enjoying being alone, knowing the world is just outside going on without me and knowing that I could step into it at any time I choose.  I equate this to sitting at a sidewalk café watching the people walk on by, knowing I could join in at any time, but I’m simply happy here sipping my coffee alone and reading a book.  I’m good with letting the world continue to spin without my interaction.

Weekend recap:

This weekend was the 12-hour race at Sebring International Raceway.  This is where Mickey wanted to have his ashes be laid to rest.  I got there and immediately got lost.  Brian paid for a parking pass but I decided to use the free parking outside the track.  He found his way back to turn 10 while I had to walk the entire raceway which is a daunting task to place to navigate to begin with and was leaving me anxious.  Halfway there, I realized I had a small blister forming on the side of my foot that made it difficult to walk which left me even more frustrated than I already was at the moment. 

To get to the infield where Brian had parked, I had to cross over a car bridge with no foot traffic allowed.  The mean police officer yelled at me as I was trying to walk up and ask him how to get across.  He roughly turned me around and told me to wait by the tree and hitch a ride over the bridge.  As I walked up to this tree, I felt tears forming because the anxiety was building and I knew I couldn’t have a break down here, alone.

I stood by the tree and watched vehicle after vehicle cross the bridge and considered who I could ask to give me a ride over the bridge.  I finally gathered myself together and ran up to a large SUV that had his window rolled down and asked for a ride.  Before I even got my question out, he told me to get in the back.  I was stunned.  As I explained to him this was my first time at the track and why I was here, he told me that people do this sort of thing all the time and not to worry.  I felt relieved.  He even asked me if I wanted a ride somewhere on the other side but I jumped out at the base of the bridge.  That was definitely a new experience.

I finally found Brian and Lynn and said hi to Mickey inside Brian’s bag.  We watched the race for a while and then decided to go for a walk.  We found ourselves on a nice bluff between turns three and four where we sat and watched the race for a while longer.  Brian scooted down to the base of the bluff, punctured a hole in Mickey’s bag and laid his cremains out in the grass.  No one said a word to us.  We sat back on the bluff again and watched people walk around his ashes and the race in front of us for a while before deciding to get up and walk around again.

When we found our way back to turn one, and the main strip, I decided it was time for me to go.  My foot was sore and I was tired.  I made my way back to my car and drove away from the track leaving Mickey behind.  I cried most of the way northbound on Hwy 27 out of Sebring.  I kept thinking that he was being left behind and alone.  It was a terrible feeling to have and I couldn’t stop the tears.

I spent the next day with a friend.  We went to the Improv to see Christopher Titus perform.  I had a heavy heart, but the comedy was good.

Love and Grief

Often there are moments just after my mind wakes but my body hasn’t fully begun to function that I lay in bed and ponder such things as why am I here and why am I the way I am.  These few moments in the morning give me a time to be introspective and contemplate the world around me.  I also take these few moments and think on more spiritual thoughts as well.  Sometimes these thoughts make me happy; more often than not these thoughts make me sad and emotional.

As I consider recent events in my life I have to ask myself why people gravitate toward one another.  What is the meaning of love and why do we look for it in every corner and every person?  Recently I’ve been re-examining the idea of love and relationships and what I need from another person.  It seems that no matter what happens, every relationship is going to end and hurt at some point.  Why do we continue to do this to ourselves?  Why do we inflict so much pain on each other?  Are we all serial masochists and don’t realize it?

Every relationship will eventually end.  That’s what my therapist taught me.  As harsh as it is, those were his exact words.  I was shocked and stunned by his frankness on the subject.  How can he say these things to me when I’m grieving the loss of so many people and relationships?  I had to stop and consider this theory, and as analytical as I am, I realize he’s right.  Every relationship we have with someone will end.  Whether it is by death of one person or because one person no longer wanted to be in the relationship, it will end.

It saddens me to realize how true these words are, especially for me.  Sometimes I think the loss that I’ve experienced is insurmountable and I cannot function.  I wonder how it is that I go on living my life day to day with this terrible feeling.  The grief that I carry around with me engulfs me on a daily basis.  It’s become my shelter, my shield, and my protector.  It keeps me from forming long-lasting bonds with people, and when I do push aside grief to let someone into my life, I end up ruining it in some way.  I don’t realize this is what I am doing until it is too late and the damage is done.  It just happens.

This morning grief and I had a conversation.  He reminded me that I am alone and that he will always be with me to share in my troubles and help me find the dark places in my soul.  I took comfort in knowing that grief will not leave me as he will continue to be there for me to help me detach when I attempt to let another person love me.  He will be there like a black knight to protect me from further injury to my soul and remind me that this relationship will destroy itself like all others and not to get attached.

I finally got out of bed and made my way into the kitchen.  I need that morning pleasure of coffee to comfort my soul.  I stand in the kitchen and water Shyla, my eastern lily that was given to me when my dog Shyla passed.  She’s been growing so big lately that I had to repot her into a bigger pot.  I take a few moments to think back to a happier time when I felt like I could move forward; a time I wasn’t so paralyzed.  I let the moment pass in fear the sadness will be overwhelming.  I curl up in bed with my morning yumminess and I grab for my pills, these pills that keep my heart rhythm from becoming out of whack, and I realize I’m missing one.  How long has it been since I’ve had my anti-depressant? 

As I sit in the dark sipping my coffee that is quickly turning cold, I think about why it is I take the anti-depressant.  Am I fooled as much as every other American in the belief that I can take a magic pill and it will suddenly make me happy again?  Maybe I should just stop taking it and let the depression engulf me.  It is after all where I find I am most comfortable.  My depression has a way of keeping people at arm’s length and maybe that is for the better.  It keeps me isolated and anti-social so that I don’t have to talk to people, nor do I want to talk to others.

My coffee is cold.  The air is cold.  My room is dark.  The world is silent.  My bed is comfortable.  I’ll just stay here today and let the world go on without me.

Being Alone

The other day my childhood friend’s mom passed away suddenly.  She’s 1,000 miles away and I cannot be there for her.  She’s grieving and going through this very difficult time and all I want to do is to take her pain away.  But who’s going to take my pain away?

I know what grieving is like.  I’ve lost so many friends and family members in recent years I feel isolated even though I am surrounded by friends.  Recently I’ve lost a co-worker, Gerry, due to the flu virus and in November I lost one of my closest friends, Mickey.

Mickey was special to me.  He was older and would always tease me about my younger age, or really anything he could find to tease me about.  I loved him and I would do anything for him.

One day in November I took him to the VA to get a routine colonoscopy.  While waiting we sat and talked about our plans for the holidays.  This year we were going to spend them together.  For Thanksgiving he was going to cook a roast and Christmas he was going to make his homemade Italian gravy (red sauce).  I don’t have close family and I was looking forward to spending the holidays with him.

The procedure went well and we had dinner after.  I teased him about eating “old people’s dinner” at TooJay’s because we were eating at 4pm with the rest of the older people that liked to eat early.  A few days later when I hadn’t heard from him I went to his apartment.  All the doors were locked from the inside.  I knew there was trouble.  I called the police who called the fire department to open the door.  The firefighter broke the chain on the backdoor and the police officer entered.  I tried to follow but I was pushed back – hard – and told to go around front.  The officer came back out and looked at me.  No words needed to be said, I knew what happened.  Mickey was dead.

I broke down into hysterics.  I am so grateful for Christine and Shirley being there with me and tried their best to comfort me but none was to be had.  My friend was gone.  He died alone in bed of natural causes.  Mickey always took care of me so now was the time for me to take care of him.  He had no family and always made sure that myself and our good friend Brian were aware of his wishes.  It was a long night but I eventually got his body removed and taken to the funeral home.  Seeing him in a body bag was devastating to say the least.

It’s been a long road trying to deal with the grief of losing him.  Brian and I emptied his apartment of all his belongings and he’s handling the financials along with the estate.  I made it through the holidays but barely.

I am alone.  Sure, like I mentioned I have friends, a mother, two sisters and a grandfather, but I am alone.  Why?  My mother and sister have borderline personality disorder that makes it difficult to keep them in my life.  I choose to communicate with them as little as possible to protect myself.  It’s gotten to the point that when I speak to my mother on the off occasion I don’t have any familial feelings for her that a daughter should have for her mother.  My full sister lives with my mother and we just do not talk to one another.  It’s better that way because she cycles much worse than I do and gets angry at the drop of a hat.

For my friends, it’s challenging for them to understand the cycles of a person that suffers from bipolar disorder so to protect them I keep them at arms distance.  My half-sister lives in Missouri and has a family of her own.  I know she would be there for me whenever I need to talk but I don’t ever want to be a burden.  Not for her or my friends.  So I choose to isolate myself because it’s easier.

For as much as I isolate myself intentionally, I crave for someone to push through the walls that I put up around myself and make me feel worthy of love and affection.  I’m waiting for that one person that will see me for the person that I am, not be afraid and still want to form an intimate, loving relationship.  Instead, I find myself emotionally isolated, lonely and depressed often because I cannot form intimate relationships with people.

This isolation makes me an introvert and experience strong social anxiety.  So my life is essentially a catch-22.  I don’t want to feel as though I’m not supported by others, but the anxiety makes it harder to meet others, be social and develop friendships.  It’s a challenge that has no right answers because I have a social phobia, but I know the only way to cure this phobia is by finding social support from other people.  It makes me spiral into a deep depression sometimes and makes me feel even more lonely.  It also makes me the shy and anxious person that I am.

To deal with this anxiety, I pull away from others and be alone so that I can reduce stress.  When I do go out to spend time with others, I don’t enjoy myself because I fear social situations and the anxiety that can arise from it.  This anxiety creates negative and “black and white” thinking.  I internalize everything to the point that negative thoughts run wild in my head.

The problem with this thought process is that being alone is exactly the opposite of what I need.  There is no cure for social anxiety but distractions help.  Distractions help me to stop overthinking and attempt to live my life.  This is something I cannot do when I’m alone with my own thoughts.  I am trying as hard as I can to overcome the fear of being social.  I’m pushing myself to get out and join the community even if it causes me to shake in fear.  If you see me out somewhere, don’t hesitate to say hi to me.  I may not start the conversation and I may look like I don’t want to talk, but I will promise you that I crave for someone to say hi and talk to me.  Don’t let me run away.

Who Am I?

I have a form of bipolar disorder called cyclothymia.  It is a mood cycling disorder much like the classical bipolar disorder except that my mood cycles are much more acute than a normal bipolar mood cycle.  My cycles can last from hours to days, and can hit me at any given moment with no warning.  This is called rapid-cycling.  Before you assume, I don’t go from calm to bitchy in seconds.  Rapid mood cycling usually takes a few hours and sometimes longer to recognize. 

My brain works differently than most people.  I think in ways most people do not.  I have a crazy, vivid imagination that pops into my brain at random times and gives me inspiration for most aspects of my life.  It also makes me spout out random statements or questions without thinking about the impact on others first.  This I call “foot-in-mouth” disease.

Among a wide range of emotions, I tend to lean toward being an empathetic and understanding person for the most part.  I put others before myself even to the detriment of my own feelings.  I suffer in silence most days and I refuse to cry in front of people when I can help it.  I will love you more than I love myself.  I’m just generally screwed up.

I’m also not good with gray areas.  I need things in my life to be black and white.  When presented with an ambiguous situation I struggle with it and sometimes push away.  I believe in absolutes; everything is a yes or a no or right or wrong for me.  There is absolutely no in between.  It’s stressful since most of the world lives in the gray area of life; especially those I have relationships.

Dealing with ambiguity creates tension for me.  I am quick to make decisions, even when they are not the right decisions.  I don’t think about consequences.  I rarely stop and consider outcomes and sometimes this hurts the people in my life.  I don’t do it intentionally but when posed with a decision I make one with the knowledge I have at hand rather than do research.

These are just a few of the issues I am working with among others.  “I am who I am; no more, no less”*  I know I’m not alone but I often feel like I am.  I try to talk through these feelings but its draining and I don’t want to be a burden to others.  I have my off days and these are generally when I want to hide away in my cave and be alone, or be in the comforting arms of a loved one. 

I will disappoint you; I disappoint myself.  I have to remind myself daily that the sky isn’t falling and I need that reassurance from you too.  I need to be reminded to slow down and not make irrational decisions.  Overall, be supportive and talk to me.  When I cannot stand on my own two legs, be the quiet strength that I need because I’ll never ask for it.

*Terry Goodkind, Wizards First Rule

Weekend Recap - Part 1

This weekend was emotionally rough for me with the first anniversary of my father’s death coming up on Oct. 5^th.  I’ve also been cycling up and down frequently for the past 2-3 months which is abnormal for me.  I have cyclothymia – a form of bipolar disorder.  For days I will cycle very low and experience profound depression.  When I come out of the depression cycle, I tend to be hypomanic (not hypermanic).

When I’m low, I can get really low.  During this low swing I will cry and have irrational thoughts while the world seems to be a bleak place for me.  I don’t want to talk to people and I usually pull away into my own little bubble.  It is very difficult to find my way out of these feelings and takes a few days for my neurochemistry to even out again.

The great part about having cyclothymia is before my neurochemistry has a chance to regulate itself I usually swing into a hypomanic mood first.  During this cycle I experience a euphoric state and can quickly become agitated.  Unlike when I am depressed I am talkative, confident and assertive.  I also appear to be flighty, have short-term memory problems and I change my mind often.  I am probably a little narcissistic too but I tend to keep that side of myself at bay.

Thankfully I am not an emotional eater.  In fact, I am the opposite.  When I am emotional, I am overly critical of myself and that includes my food intake.  I am working really hard to lose weight and I’ve lost 24 pounds in the last 10 weeks.  I feel great.  People around me tell me they can see the change – I cannot see it so much as feel it (especially in my clothes).

Friday my girlfriends and I went to a bar that was unveiling a new beer that was brewed with the collaboration of two breweries nearby.  It ended up being a dull night.  Rather than sticking to my diet I gave myself a reprieve and ate Chicago style pizza and a Greek salad.  It was good, but I regretted it the next day.  I tried not to beat myself up too bad considering weight loss is not about the short term but about the long haul.  It’s a marathon and not a sprint.  One day of eating badly is not going to derail me from my goal.

Saturday morning started out rough.  Before I explain Saturday it must be known that a person like me with cyclothymia does not handle ambiguity well.  We see things in black and white – not in shades of grey. 

Earlier in the week a friend sent me an e-mail stating he was going to take his dog to the farmers market and then the park.  Since he didn’t specifically ask me if I wanted to join him I replied back asking if he wanted company.  He replied sarcastically with “No, I just thought I’d tease you with it.”  Unfortunately, he doesn’t understand that I have difficulty with ambiguity.  I have trouble seeing the forest from the trees – well – more like trouble seeing the tree in the forest since I’m counting the leaves.  We agreed to meet at 8am but he didn’t specify where. 

So here I am driving to his place since I figured we would ride together.  Last week when we planned this same trip I was to meet at his place and we would ride together but his work plans got in the way.  At about a mile away from his place I get a text message from him that he’s early.  What?!?!?!?  I ask if he’s at the market and he was.  Well, crap!  So I text him that I’m running late (I didn’t want to admit that I misunderstood) and I’ll be there soon.  I turned around and made it to the farmers market about five minutes after 8am. 

At this point I’m frustrated.  Things are not starting off well for me this morning.  I have NOT had my coffee and I have not had food.  I am upset at myself for not understanding where we should meet and for getting my hopes up to spending the day with him.

We walk around the farmers market and pick up a few items.  Then we start walking toward his car.  In fear of being wrong again I stopped and asked where I am going.  Am I riding with him or should I be heading toward my own car?  That’s when he told me I could ride with him.  I finally admitted that I misunderstood his messages and went to his place first.  We glossed over the ambiguity issue.  This tells me we need to have a talk about communication.

The dog park was fun.  We walked around a bit and then sat on the bench watching his dog play in the lake.  I adore the affection he gives me.  He put his arm around me and caressed the skin under the sleeve of my shirt.  I sunk into his side and rested my head on his shoulder.  It always sends warm fuzzy feelings to my brain.  I never have to worry about upholding my end of a conversation with him.  I can be quiet and introverted all I want.  He doesn’t push me to talk, he just lets me be.

On the way back to my car the area around the market was crowded with cars and people walking.  I had asked my friend to let me out so that I could simply walk to my car.  He was being a gentleman and offered to drive me to my car.  While he was attempting to navigate the cars and the people, while listening to my directions, he missed a turn.  I have trouble in crowds and this started flaring my anxiety.  I was doing everything I could to maintain composure as I did not want to have a full-on anxiety attack in the car sitting next to him.  I asked again to let me walk but he was determined to drive me to my car.  By the time we made our way to my vehicle I was so flustered that I couldn’t think straight and nearly left my phone in his vehicle.  I just wanted out of there.

I left fairly upset with myself.  I wanted more time with him since he makes me feel good.  He is my “safe place”.  Unfortunately, he had to work so that was out of the question.  Not wanting to be alone I called up my best girlfriend.  Although the morning started off rough, we ended up having a great day together between shopping and an early dinner.  A little retail therapy and BFF support never hurts.