Blog Archives

I'm crazy.. I'm not crazy.. oh I am definitely CRAZY.

1/30/2015

So when there is something going on in your body and you know it is going on and there is absolutely not a darn thing you can do about it but wait it is FRUSTRATING! So here it is peeps.. I now have zero clue if I am crazy or not. Well ok wait back up I am crazy but I don't know what is CAUSING the crazy. (I am going somewhere with this today so just bare with me ok).

Week before last as you all know I was given a diagnosis from a Dr. Which was GREAT! Finally something that we can deal with something we can aim towards fixing something we can control. Just one little problem, the new med they put me on I had some kinda of crazy reaction to. I should notate here that my body does all kinds of crazy things with medicine, if there is a 3% chance that something will go wrong while taking it.. I am the 3%. Ambien to sleep.. 3% chance of insomnia, I get the insomnia side effect, 3% chance of birth control failure.. you guys have met Drake right? I think you get my point here my body is jacked up. So Saturday morning after a night of racing heart, wanting to climb the walls, and the almost uncontrollable urge to rip my own skin off, I went to the ER. This test was done, that test was done, and I know that the cause of all that craziness was the medication because I stopped taking it and I don't feel the need to remove my epidermis any longer. YAY right? But wait.. there's more.

My blood work came out all wonky, (imagine that) and they had to do a CT Scan because some number wasn't quite right. Which by the way can go up due to stress and any type of inflammation in the body. Anyhoo.. I don't have a blood clot at least not in my chest, which is rather confusing because can't a blood clot be anywhere in your body and then move and maybe today there is one in my chest region. Oh hell I don't know. Anyway that was ruled out as an issue, however, there found this little alien living in my adrenal gland (which by the way is right over your kidneys not in your brain) so off they send me to follow up with my regular doctor about this little alien. Let me insert here that you should not give a crazy person a hand full of papers that have ABNORMAL in big red letters all over it and access to the internets. I have been dying since last Saturday. I had a follow up on Monday morning with my PCP and was assured that the abnormal on the blood tests were no big deal and that the top line number isn't really that concerning it is the bottom lines of what is working IN the cells you have, and there is a chance that my blood counts just aren't like normal peoples... imagine that. It was decided to get better pictures of George.. lets call him George all aliens need a name and an MRI has been scheduled for next Thursday. I was sent home with assurance that all was ok, I wasn't dying of some kind of crazy disease. So lets shift focus from all the abnormal blood numbers and lets look up stuff about George. Because George is real. George is there.

So enter internets again. You now what I find out. If my adrenal glands are acting up GUESS WHAT.. they will make you crazy. They will make you fat in your tummy. They will make you depressed. They will make you tired. They will make you moody. Guess what else I also found out, handing someone a diagnosis of bipolar disorder without months of evaluation based on the patient, interviews with family and so forth is worth absolutely nothing. All those things I checked off on that little sheet of paper they handed me two weeks ago could all be caused by George, and if not necessarily George, George's home. All that stuff is supposed to be ruled out before you tell someone they are crazy. It wasn't. Especially since the medication changes they make with the diagnosis of bipolar disorder can complete set off other physical problems you may have.

I am freaking tired. I am tired of chasing what is wrong with me. I am tired of being tired. I am tired of crying. I am tired of not having any control over what is going on with my body and NOT KNOWING WHAT IS WRONG WITH IT!

Peace out..
Re

PS I am getting even MORE tired of trying to get Weebly to work right!

4 Comments

A little bit lighter.. a little bit brighter.

1/29/2015

2 Comments

By lighter.. I certainly do not mean my weight, that has sky rocketed. Yay me.. not. I am talking about my mood. I seem to be in a bit of a brighter lighter place. I think I see a light at the end of the darkness... it could be a train.. but for now we are just going to go towards the light.

I have actually gotten out of the house every day this week, even Saturday if you count the trip to the ER (bad reaction to a new med all is fine) but that actually means I managed to:
1. Get out of bed.
2. Work because yes I still work
3. Get dressed.. getting out of jammies is not easy.
4. Did not move directly from work to recliner, sofa, bed..
5. Actually got in my vehicle and went and did things with people.
6. One day ran 7 miles (I haven't run since I really hate running.
7. I have been to the gym and lifted weights twice and plan on going again tonight (even though my body is revolting)
8. I went to dinner and a movie.

The bottom line is I am doing things. I am not just breathing which was all I could do for awhile. Now I guess the next thing is to see about cleaning this house.. GOOD GRIEF. It may take me a year to just get it back to normal, but one thing at a time I suppose. It may also take me getting some help around here which isn't handed out lightly... you kinda have to BEG for it then wait them you because they are going to try to wait you out. There is so much that NEEDS to be done and no one seems to be doing any of it. (I get panicked just thinking about it.. derailed again and that is how quick my mind can go back down the rabbit hole)

I know if I have said it once I have said it 37 times sleep is an issue with me. I have a hard time getting to sleep, I have a hard time staying asleep, and it seems my best sleeps are between 3 and 6. Which really kinda stinks because in order to do bootcamp I have to be up by 430. I tried that for awhile. I ended up a complete zombie. I am hoping that come Bootcamp Plus time (because yes my ass is super Plus size) I will figure it all out and manage to get to sleep before 3 am. See that me up there in that picture.. I want some of her back. She thought she was incredibly fat... I KNOW I am. DAMN IT.. BRIGHT LIGHT BRIGHT LIGHT..

Anyway I was TRYING to say I thought I was doing better but after writing this maybe not. Guess the only thing to do is keep trying.

I have absolutely no idea what I was even trying to say here so if you are confused.. don't worry.. It's me not you.

President of the Pro Bailers Signing Out.
Re

Edit: as I was writing the email to send this out this came out and it makes so much sense "I have zero clue where I was even going with my post today I ended up so derailed.
Which is probably a lot of what keeps me rooted in this rabbit hole. I can't look at just one little thing that is right without all the other things crowding in..
Hope everyone is having a good day.. Please send a maid, a laundress, a gardener, a cook (so I will stop eating everything in sight)"

2 Comments

The Unbearable Bond.

1/28/2015

14 Comments

The Grieving Angel. Hollywood Cemetery

Last night as I was trying to go to sleep my thoughts kept racing as they often do, and my mind landed on grieving parents.

The Unbearable Bond

I thought I only had Deanna for 19 and Little Dustin for 15 years.
I remembered some parents didn't have 19 or 15 minutes.

I thought my only daughter is gone!
I remembered some parents lost their only child.

I thought my children didn't get to see their brother again.
I remembered some children never met their sibling.

I thought they died so instantly, no one got to say goodbye.
I remembered parents who watched their children in sickness for days, weeks, months, years.

I thought I wouldn't see my daughter married.
I remembered some didn't see their daughter walk.

I thought Little Dustin would never teach his son to play ball.
I remembered Dad's who didn't get to teach their sons.

I thought the kids they were so full of life, they didn't want to die!
I remembered the parents who's child chose the end.

I thought I wasn't there when they went to heaven!
I remembered parents who can't get the image out of their minds.

I thought why did God take my children in heaven.
I remembered parents who have no belief.

I thought how could two of my kids be gone.
I remembered parents who lost all of their children.

I thought I didn't get to say I love you one more time.
I remembered of parents who never heard the words.

I thought of how I missed their smiles.
I remembered parents of the unborn.

I thought of the accident scenes imbedded in my mind.
I remembered some died on foreign land.

I thought of Deanna and Little Dustin in their final beds.
I remembered some children were never found.

I thought of all the differences.
I remembered we all loved and lost our children.

I thought I was so alone.
I remembered all of you.

14 Comments

A little dusting..

1/27/2015

2 Comments

I could be talking about dusting my house.. which I am not. I don't know the last time I did that. It's bad I know it's bad. But I did vacuum yesterday! Go Me! (anyone know a good cleaning person.. I think I need a cleaning person.. BFF... I am sorry I have let you down... I don't even dust when it IS dusty now)

I could be talking about the light dusting of snow outside. Yes it is a dusting, there are a few frozen flakes on my porch. There weren't even enough flakes for the dogs to enjoy the stuff falling from the sky. I got out of bed early for nothing. Well something actually, the heater was making an odd noise and it woke me up. I don't need to be woken up early by anything. I am back to not sleeping, or at least having a hard time getting to sleep. I don't like that it makes for a very tired Re. Anyway there was a dusting of snow and I fixed the odd noise the heater was making.. I turned it off.

However, what I am really talking about is I did some dusting around the blog last night. It is time of a bit of a clean up and a dusting. I was playing around with the way things worked. Things don't work the way I thought they did. See that little Facebook like button down below.. it doesn't really do much of nothing except make the number go up. It tells me that 3 or 19 people clicked the like button. That is nice at least I know that 19 people liked the post enough to like it. I don't know who you 19.. ok 3 people are, so please pardon me if I never say thank you. I DO thank you and I DO appreciate you reading. So that is what that button does.

Now, let's take a peek at the little floaty side bar to the left, there are all kinds of fun buttons over there! Facebook, Pinterest, Twitter, some I have never heard of in my life.. (will be obviously doing a little more dusting to at least figure out what they are) now those little beauties are awesome. THAT is where the 3 of you can share stuff that is share worthy. I like sharing, sharing gets my insanity out there in the world and HOPEFULLY may get to someone else who needs it. So please don't be afraid to click the buttons! I know your Mama taught you to share.. if not her I am sure a teacher along the way did, or you ended up with your nose in a triangle on the chalk board for hitting little John with the big blow up E... oh I think I derailed again, I don't think I ever apologized for that.. Sorry John!

Anyway, please guys use the buttons, they are easy. Just pick which ever one and CLICK! (you may have to log in for it to post but come on you wanted to parooze pinterest anyway!

Speaking of sharing, take a gander over to your right, see those awesome purple buttons? Under "Blogs I love?" well guess what those are? Blogs I love! The top of course is Janice, she is still writing about Mathews and birds and running and family, while I am all over here writing about crazy, dusting, grief, and looney toons. She is much more grounded than I, but if you ever lived in and loved Mathews that is a blog for you! The others are some places I like to connect with people, the list will grow, its a new thing. Some of those people have written books, adopted babies, traveled the same path as me...

One last little bit of house cleaning around here and I will let you get back to your day. Comments. Us bloggers LOVE US SOME COMMENTS. To us it is like getting an old fashion letter in the mail. Nothing is better than getting that little notification of BING BLOG COMMENT! Ok maybe I am just weird, but that is something I love. Up until recently I did not know that I could reply to the comments that were left as long as you leave your email address on the form (fyi no one sees it) and if you happen to have blog or a website PLEASE fill it in! I will go visit you.

So now you know your way around my little spot on the internets. I enjoyed giving you a tour, sorry if it was boring. I have more interesting things coming to you this week I promise!

President of the Pro Bailers Signing Out!
Love ya
Re

2 Comments

Yoga .. the mind healer

1/26/2015

2 Comments

Let me start by saying that I will be THAT old before I am close to THAT limber. Today I feel more like the post than the old lady. Rather stiff after a 7 miles jog I did yesterday. Normal people start off kinda slow.. lets jog a mile! Ok! Me no not me.. I woke up feeling good yesterday (after a really bad Saturday .. more on that and the insane body I live in tomorrow) and I promised someone I would do 7 miles so WOOHOO I DID! Honestly I feel rather well today and may get in a 5 miler later. ANNNYYYYHOOOOO that is not what this is about. This is about yoga my experience.

Now I have done yoga before, Deanna and I did it together in Mathews and we had a grand time. There was stretching.. and laughing... (inappropriate laughing but still laughing) but I did remember that savasana ROCKED and I thought maybe if I went to the newly started classes at THE GYM. (say that like we said Da Bears in the late 80's .. that's how it sounds in my head) I could get that feeling of okness with the world back. After one class I can see that this is going to take some time.

Let's start from the beginning shall we? I forgot kinda what one should wear to Yoga so I threw on comfy pants and a t shirt. Seemed logical because we would be doing stretching and what not. It worked out kinda well.. except for every time we had to do some crazy leg stretching I ended up with a wedgie. That wasn't that fun. The t shirt was ok.. it seemed to stay in place pretty well.. my boobs on the other hand are a different story. They aren't even that big but apparently whatever bra I had on was NOT a good idea, downward dog turned into downward boobs turned into I CAN NOT BREATH OVER HERE. Seriously the darn things kept coming out of the top of my bra.. why do these things happen to me? But that was over come and I just jiggled them back into place when I stood up. Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle Wiggle.. ahhh come on you know the tune.

So here we are.. doing the table top.. easy peasy.. and I hear.. "Let's lift our right arm and our left leg and balance.. ok I got this. Let's gaze out to our right hand.. OMG OMG OMG OMG THERE IS A FOOT SOMEONE ELSE'S FOOT INCHES FROM MY FACE.. OMG OMG I AM GOING TO DIE IT IS A FOOT!!!! ABORT ABORT ABORT LOOK SOMEWHERE ELSE.. DON'T GAZE AT THE HAND OMG IT'S A FOOT!!!!! (yea that happened) I am sure poor Christine who was beside me and then behind me when we were doing some other thing a majigger probably thought.. "Oh My God.. Becky, look at her butt. It's so big"... (why yes I do think in song lyrics a lot of the time) sorry Christine but at least it wasn't my foot. There were a few more times when feet came a bit to close to me but I managed through it by gazing here there and the other place. I think we should wear socks. I am not saying my feet are all that.. but feet in general just.. OMG!!!

Then there is the breathing thing. Breathe in on up.. breathe out on down.. breathe in .. breathe out.. wait I am not done breathing in, now I am breathing out on your in and I am trying to in half way through an out and not I am supposed to be outing now, wait now my boobs are covering my nose and I can't breathe at all. I'M DYING!!!
"Find your breath"
"Find it?? Lady you keep telling me where it is supposed to be and mine is over at bar across the street getting a drink! I think I will join it." I finally gave up trying to keep up with who was breathing in and out and when and where and decided that breathing out on in was more important than hyperventilating in class. I am assuming I was not the only one having an issue with the breathing thing because from somewhere behind me I could hear the huffing and puffing of a few people who quite obviously weren't sure where their breath was either.

I would go into when everyone ended up on their heads and hand their feet in the air, but there is no point because I was sitting on my butt in awe that they got their elbows on their knees.. I cant get my head on the floor with my knees on the ground much less my knees on my elbows. So we can just skip that. But I will mention that at one point my foot did slip on the gym mat not my mat and it did sound like I ripped one but either everyone realized my foot slipped or no one is like Deanna and I because let me tell you when someone ripped one in our old class we almost got thrown out because I looked at her after it happened. We had tears and all.

Finally it's the part I had been longing for savasana! The part I endured feet and nearly dying for! It was time for my favorite part! The part where you lay on your back and do nothing except listen to the instructor instruct you to do nothing. Ahhhhhh finally.

"Lay on your backs and relax your body.. feel your body's weight on the mat.... "
*my body weight on my mat is a lot of weight, was my body on this mat this heavy before.. my body doesn't all fit on the mat should I be all on the mat.. should I tuck my hands under my big butt.. OMG Becky look at her butt.. wait she said something else what did she say..*

"Feel your arms get heavy"

*my arms.. my arms ARE heavy have you seen my arms.. I could fly with these things why do I have to FEEL them get heavy I know they are heavy lady are you trying to tell me I need to lose weight to do yoga so I can purposely FEEL my arms get heavy because seriously they just are"

"Now clear your mind"

*WOOHOO FINALLY IT IS TIME. THINK OF NOTHING!"

"Let your mind relax into thinking of nothing"

*Lady.. your talking I am thinking about your voice I am thinking about you talking I am thinking about you telling me to think about nothing and by telling me to think about nothing aren't you telling me to think about something because in this sense nothing is something. So shouldn't you be telling me to be void of thought not think about nothing? And what is nothing really? Isn't it kinda the opposite of something therefore has to be something not just nothing? Crap I wasn't supposed to be thinking was I*

*nothing nothing nothing... did I shut the door when I left home? I wonder if the dogs are running around the neighborhood.. wait NOTHING. nothing nothing why is that person breathing so loud? Are they sick? I bet they are sick and we are all going to get the flu and die"

"COUGH"

*OMG that dude coughed and broke my nothingness I was almost to nothing and he coughed and now I am not at nothing not even close OMG I bet he does have the flu.. maybe Ebola! Maybe Ebola is coming back and it is starting here! Or maybe he is coughing from all that weird breathing.. I bet I could cough too.*

*This music is nice, I wonder if she will tell me where she got it, I might like to read to this then I can think about what I am reading.. OMG NOTHING NOTHING NOTHING THINK ABOUT NOTHING!*

"Ok class gently come up to a seated position"

*NO WAIT I DIDN'T GET TO NOTHING YET!!! Drat. Well this will make for a GREAT blog post... The Art of Not Achieving Nothing.. I think I will write a book!*

I will say that I will try again and I did thoroughly enjoy the class and even if I did not achieve the nothing I did walk away feeling less tense and that in my life right now is a GREAT THING!

Off to find a better bra and socks for the whole class!

Have a great Monday peeps!
Love the President of the Pro Bailers
Re

2 Comments

Take it for a nice little stroll....

1/23/2015

3 Comments

I know that there is a chance that some people are completely appalled at my very public display of my life. My journey through grief, again back to the accident date, but that is when this particular leg of the journey started so that is where this needs to remain. Yesterday it was a topic of conversation in a grief forum, "Do you mark your life in before and after you child's death?" Why yes.. yes I do. Both of them. Why? Because it is a significant marker in my life. A place where not just a little bit changed but EVERYTHING changed, you pick up a few pieces and then changed again, and then you pick up some of the pieces... How can one have a child in their life and not be significantly aware of the change in their own worlds once they are gone. (derailed thought much??) The point of the time discussion is so that you understand most of what you will read here is after Deanna's accident, because that is my life now, that is what I am struggling through, however, there will be some times that the past is referenced. I can only ask you .. if you know a grieving mom or dad and you remember them before the loss of their child be keenly aware that this is a new life for them and help them along the journey and do not prod the past at them, they are no longer that person.

Ok back to parading the crazy.. I am having to face that I have been bipolar pretty much my entire life. (I am assuming as a small child one doesn't become labeled as nuts) As a teenager I was treated for manic depressive disorder, again in my early twenty's for depression and again in my late twenty's for depression. Unfortunately in the last 21 months I have been chasing a grief that started the day of the accident and not looking at the big picture of where this incredibly HUGE depression came from. Please do not misunderstand me, losing a child is cause for great depression, but by this point, I believe, one should be able to function in a semi normal state, or whatever normal is now (haven't figured that out). It will be a process of figuring out what works for me as I am working towards over coming the darkness of months of depression. A parallel effort if you will. Some things about me may have been irreversibly changed. I may never run again or I could run marathons, I may never take photos again or I may take photos for a book I write. The world is wide open at this point. The key is finding out what makes me happy.

I suppose I am lucky in a way in that I don't necessarily believe that a label of a mental health disorder is in anyway shameful. It is what it is.. it is how I am hard wired and I didn't MAKE me this way so why should I be ashamed. Are you ashamed that one of your feet is slightly bigger than the other? That your eyes are blue but not quite the sparkling blue of the ocean? That you completely detest brussel sproats? I am going to guess, no. So why should I or anyone else be ashamed of having their brain wired just a bit differently. I will say what I said again yesterday, NO ONE IS TO BLAME for not seeing the past in the last 21 months. What I do find unfortunate is that mental health issues are so shameful to many people that no one spoke up and said.. "Hey you know.. you have been here before." or maybe been forth coming with not only my history but family history as well, until it was dreadfully close to too late. I wanted to die, I was prepared to take action to die, I just had to get all the little grim reaper ducks in a row, then and only then were words ever uttered that this may be more than just grief. The bottom line is this is an illness. This needs to be talked about and discussed OPENLY. Why do people feel it is ok to say "You know your Uncle Tom had cancer in his 30s" but NOT ok to say .. "You know Uncle Tom battled depression and anxiety." It is part of your family history that should not be kept in the dark. It is just as deadly as cancer people.

Another instance of luckiness. Over 60% of people untreated for bipolar disorder become addicted to illegal drugs, they are just chasing down a way to feel better, to calm the voices, to make them a whisper not a raging roar. That did happen to me. Lucky .. very very lucky.

So I am sure some of you are wondering why all this is being figured out now. That is simple really. The accident triggered trauma, that triggered PTSD and Grief and Depression all at the same time, creating a huge trigger for a massive depressive incident and when normal measures for depression where not getting me out of this hole after months and months, puzzle pieces started falling into place. I will say that it was a family member that finally said.. "Do you think you may be bipolar?" and that opened this Pandora's of the past, the present and the future where my crazy is concerned. So that is the short story of how we got here today. So family member X you aren't at fault.. you may just have saved my life, the time frame doesn't really matter.

I can only ask that today, if you are struggling and not quite sure if it may be a bit more than just depression or sadness or whatever it is you are feeling, reach out to family members. Just ask the question. "Do we have a history of mental illness in our family?" I am not sure it will be as comfortable as asking if there are any birthday's coming up this month, but isn't it worth your health, your well being, your happiness? And family members if there is known issues, for the love of little Pete.. DON'T HIDE IT.. Parade it around.. BE HAPPY TO BE UNIQUE!

Be the person strong enough to open up about the truth behind the curtain. It just may be your daughters life you save.

Much love to you all,
President of the Pro Bailer Club.
Re

3 Comments

Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs

1/22/2015

3 Comments

First let me mention that I did NOT go searching for THAT image. I seriously just typed in a few random words and that was one of the images. It HAD to be used. That's me.. that is what I look like (just way fluffier) waving my little Help! sign in a gesture of surrender. I have been in this mode for awhile.

As I said yesterday I took a step on a new path of this journey and went and saw a Dr that specializes in mental health issues. There has been some debate amongst an inner circle of friends that this should have happened months ago, and the Dr felt the same way. Me on the other hand, I don't think any of us dealing with my illness knew what we were looking at. Myself included. One of the things that the team of doctors and therapist along with myself have been chasing is the grief and depression caused by Deanna's accident, which surely started around the time of Little Dustin's 3 years prior and was just exacerbated by the naive thought that this "could not possibly happen again and what is wrong with me that this horrible thing happened to my family not once but twice. I am the common factor I made this happen... " (glimpse into how fast my thoughts can derail). Anyway my point was we have been chasing what has happened in my life mainly since April 20th 2013. My doctor saw in front of her a broken woman over the death of her daughter, a woman who had panic attacks, a woman who cried uncontrollably and could not sleep. My talking Dr saw the same thing, as well as, dealt with weekly issues that was happening around me. Everyone was doing everything they could to make me better.

Every time someone asked me.. "When did this start?" the response was the same. "When the accident happened." It was a truthful answer, my life fell completely apart at that moment. Everything about me shifted and changed and we dealt with everything that was happening in front of us. So let me just say this right now.. IT IS NO ONES FAULT AND NO ONE COULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING!!! I really didn't either, and yesterday when I left the new Dr's office I looked just like Wil E up there. Shell shocked.

I am going to now tell you how the appointment went because it was a story in itself. I walked in and the man says.. "What are you here for?" first racing thought was... why don't you know why I am here.. I said "because after almost 2 years I am no better". He says.. "no better from what?".. next racing thought.. this man has NO IDEA why I am here... (insert beginning of panic attack, shaking hands, heart pounding.. OMG I am going to have to tell him the whole story) my response.. "Depression.. I am no better from the depression" him.. "Why do you think you are depressed?".. by this point you can imagine that the panic had full force ensued and I am not sure what was really said but a ramble of words and some mention of the accident) I was then asked if I was on medication.. I perked up at this point and very proudly reached into my bag and handed him the bottles that I remembered to bring with me for just that reason. I explained that I had just recently started taking my meds again and that the dosages before were X Y and Z and Z was taken off because it had a bad effect with me.. and (insert another rambly here) He looks at me and says.. "What did you say to that doctor to have her prescribe XYZ123 to you in that dosage?" SKKKKIIIIIRRRRRTTTT back up .. did you just berate me doc? I calmly said "I didn't SAY anything" He requestions.. "What would cause her to prescribe that to you?" I said well probably because I was sitting in her office in a complete disaster.. because I was having massive anxiety and panic attacks and I could barely function." (at this point I am getting prickely) He says "ok.. but that is a high addictive medication and that dosage.. blah blah blah" me.. "Doc I can assure you that I am not addicted to them.. not now not ever I stopped taking them cold turkey last March and at the time I had lots left over because I didn't take it unless I felt I was in a situation I needed it.. if I felt the panic and anxiety coming on. I do not like taking pills of any sort so taking more than I needed seemed gross and I take them now just to sleep.. they do help me go to sleep." Doc seemed to relax a bit, thank goodness because I was not feeling it at this point.

Next thing.. more question on how long I had been depressed.. 21 months... talk talk talk back to how long had I been depressed. Since April 2013... talk talk talk back to how long.. 21 months and 1 day. talk talk talk.. Ok let's fill out this check list..

Me: √√√√√√√√ "Doc.. I am checking all of these this can't be right.." he says to check all that apply. Me: √√√√√√√√√√

As I hand the paper back I am in tears.. every box is checked under the title Depression. Next I get a new list.

Me: √√√x√√√√xx√√√x Ok yay not so bad.
New list.
Me: x√√√xx√√√xxxx√√√√ again.. some x's ok them I am ok! Shew.. thought of a minute there I was crazy.

Doc takes the lists and gives them a look over and the big... hmmmmm.. again we go back to .. when did you start with depression. (insert brain thoughts.. omg.. wth.. wtf.. are we back here AGAIN.. DAMN IT .. WHEN MY DAUGHTER DIED, THE DAY OF THE ACCIDENT.. APRIL 20TH 2013.. 21 MONTHS AGO.. ALMOST 2 YEARS AGO.. 21 MONTHS AND ONE DAY AGO... all of which came slamming into me at one time. What was this guy not understanding??") He says something to the effect of, "Well this very clearly shows bipolar disorder but I find it hard to understand why you weren't depressed or manic BEFORE this..." oh wait.. what did he just say.. before? before the accident.. oh wait.. "Doc I have been depressed before this..... "

Him: (insert deep sigh and scribbling out stuff on paper) "Well that is what I was asking.. when did it START??" I said "I told you this time it started almost 2 years ago.." Him, "That is not what I want to know.. I want to know when was the first time you were depressed." Me "I don't know I don't keep track of it.. the 90's I guess.."

Insert some wrangling down to exact times and years and frustration over him wanting to know when I was up when I was down.. I DON'T F'ING KNOW YOU MORON.. I DIDN'T KEEP A RECORD OF I AM DEPRESSED ON MARCH, 27TH 1992. WHO THE HELL DOES THAT?? JUST FIX ME I WANT YOU TO FIX ME... (brain derailed again)

There was some talking I don't remember about what really.. pills.. wrong meds.. new meds.. texting every day.. blah blah blah but the bottom line is I am bipolar (also known as a Pro Bailer! which is much more exotic sounding.) So there you have it I am very official Looney Toons. I have papers that say so. This could have come in handy so many times in the past.. "Don't mind her .. she is just bipolar" and it does help explain some of the very questionable choices in the past. I have been an untreated, undiagnosed mental patient for 40 some odd years.

I finally get to leave the office and in kinda of a stunned state start relaying the story from above to Sisper.. when she chimes in and goes "Wait.. did you tell them about high school??" Oh somofabich!!! I totally forgot about that.. anyway the point is this has been going on longer than my brain would remember. Now we have a path.. we have a direction to head towards that could lead to being better and not living in a life of darkness and my daddy gets to tell people that his daughter is like Catherine Zeta Jones!!! What could go wrong??

The fun side of being a little bit off is that when you happen to riding down the road in a very busy section of town and see a sign that says "insert very ugly statement that should not be on a street corner" you are very apt to get out of the vehicle and remove the sign, which by the way was advertising buying ugly cars on the other side. You are also liable to throw the sign in the back of a truck which threatens to blow out later in the day.. can you see that scene?? A sign with a very pointed message flying out and landing with a splat on the windshield of the car behind? (the last part didn't happen the sign was safely disposed of in an appropriate trash container.) But it is just another story of my otherwise not so right brain in action and the driver being how to say.. "Don't mind her she is bipolar!"

Signing out after this very very long post about how one finds out they are a Pro Bailer.
Love the president of the club!
Re

3 Comments

Looney Toons...

1/21/2015

2 Comments

So today I embark on a new journey. I get to meet a real live Looney Toons Dr. Alright alright not exactly a cartoon Dr. It's a real live dude who happens to attend to patients that may or may not qualify for the looney bin, which shouldn't be confused with Bugs Bunny's Rabbit hole (even if it feels that is where I live, it is so deep and dark around this joint).

Some days I lean more toward qualifying than others, hence the visit. There are things at play that I really need to have checked into. Like, where is my memory, it currently looks like the moon shaped hunk of swiss cheese that Marvin the Martian naps on according to Doc Whatsup, he took a peek through an Acme microscope (added note I had to go ask my son what the thing was that you looked at slides in science with.. I wanted to say telescope, in my defense that was the first word he said too.. but that just emphasizes that there may be a hole or two where stuff is leaking out).

What's going on with my sleep... days on end I walk around on minutes of sleep because of insomnia, toss and turn all night long end up looking like Wil E Coyote after one of his tricks back fired (if I could just end up that skinny). Then the following week wanting to do nothing but sleep like little Pussyfoot (yes that is the kittens name) curled up on the bulldogs back, and sometimes it happens. I just sleep and sleep.. wake up thinking it is 7 am .. nope 11.

Why are my emotions more twisty and turny than a road that the Road Runner is on? They come and go as fast as Speedy Gonzales but I feel like I am living like Slow Poke Rodriquez. Stuck in some kind of tar ... I am thinking that the result will be something that has to do with bears of the polar variety but that is ok. If we have an answer we can face whatever the culprit is like Elmer Fudd on a rabbit hunt.

So tomorrow I go see some guy who I hope can help me sort this all out.. I may be on the wrong meds.. I may really be looney tunes... or I may just be getting through the only way there is right now. All I can say is that tomorrow is another step in the journey and on Thursday I will be on to the Next.. then the next.. always always the next thing.

I should also mention that the above photo came from 9gag.com where I spend endless hours entertaining myself. Seriously.. room full of people.. feeling as itchy as Ralph E Wolf in sheeps wool trying to sneak up on Sam Sheepdog.. pull up 9gag and you aren't even in the room anymore. Just watch out for laughing out loud.. it happens.. Right Baby Ree?

So ok.. (insert PG13 warning label.. maybe R if you are prudish) I am going a little off topic here but this bared repeating because I don't get it. And let me start by saying.. if your name is Dick.. I am so so sorry this is in no way directed at you or your mother... but please explain to me why someone would name their child Richard but then call them Dick. Oh his name is Richard but we call him Dick... WHY WHY WHY? His name is a beautiful solid healthy name but lets call him Dick.. which could be a little limp.. I mean LAME I MEAN LAME! (but then it would be limp.. oh nevermind) Isn't that the same as taking Kathryn .. dwindling it down to Puss because Kat... Cat... yea.. see..
PLEASE EXPLAIN.

But for right now right this minute...
Bedeebedeebedee... That's all folks!

Love ya.
Re

2 Comments

21

1/20/2015

5 Comments

My dear Angel,

21 months. 91 weeks. 640 days. 15,360 hours. 921,600 minutes. 55,296,000 seconds.

I don't understand how the time keeps ticking by. Tick Tick Tick Tick.

I didn't think I would make it 1 second with you gone, much less 21 months. I still struggle my darling girl. The more time goes by the harder I have finding reasons to stay here. The more I miss you. Your voice. Your smile. Your "I love you Mommy"s.

People tell me you wouldn't want me to be so sad, that you would want me to live my life and be happy. I know it's true. You were never one to let anything hold you back, always out there doing your thing. I just find myself rooted in this sadness of all the things I should have done, could have done, didn't do. All of the what ifs, why nots, how comes. They circle my mind like a hurricane and never stop. Never resting on, "you did the best you could mom." I don't know if that day will ever come without the understanding of why you were taken to heaven so soon.

Life has continued to tick on by all those months, weeks, days and I have done nothing. Stuck here like a slug. Writing this makes me feel ashamed. I wonder if you and all the other angels in heaven are able to look down and say .. "hey.. Look, that one right there, that's my mom." if you are I am afraid that you may be turning away not pointing yours out, or picking another and saying.. "there that is my mom." Someone out going, someone happy, someone that still has a passion for life.

I know I let you down in life little girl and afraid I continue to do so even in death. There is just one thing that has remained the same... my love for you, it will never flatter.

You are not now or will ever be forgotten my girl. My love flies to you and your brother on the wings of angels.
Love Always.
Mommy

5 Comments

Black Diamond Slope

1/19/2015

8 Comments

One of the things I am starting to realize is that in order to face the stranger in my head I have to also face all of the things that I have allowed this darkness to take away from me. One of those things was my writing... more importantly than me losing my writing, I lost the avenue that I worked so hard to build. The avenue that allowed for me to have purpose. The avenue that allowed others to know they were not alone. The avenue that I know saved more than one life just by wearing the Deanna Hug. The avenue I had hoped would save dozens, if not hundreds or thousands. I let it wilt and wither while I hid in a dark hole.

The image above is 6 months of data, I was too ashamed to show you the year out, but that high peak on the chart represents over 500 people, the year... some peaks doubled that. In just a few short months I have managed to let over 700 people, myself, and my daughter down all by not sharing my journey as I promised I would. The visual of reader decline is just about an exact replica of my mental and emotional decline. I don't know what happened in September but something started and by October 1 it was like I took my brain and said "LOOK! A black diamond course!!! Let's go!" Neither I, my brain, nor the stranger in it know how to ski by the way. It was a rapid decent into hell.

Having to face all the things that the stranger is taking for me is difficult, this blog hasn't been the only one. My bootcamp. My church. My friends. My healthy. My sleep. My family. My self worth. My happiness. My passion. Let me rephrase that, the stranger he isn't taking anything, they are still there, he is just keeping me from reaching them. It's back to that gelatin wall I told you about yesterday. I SEE all those things.. but when I reach out.. I can't quite get there.

One of the things that hurts so badly about the decline in readers to the blog. I don't know how to get them back. I don't know how to say.. "HEY GUYS!!! I am here! I am still here! I am so sorry!" I post my writings on Deanna's Give Live Hug facebook page but due to the way newsfeeds work now I don't believe many actually see the posts unless they specifically go look. I had seen the decline in the likes and comments on that page but I attributed it to how facebook was working now, now I wonder is it due to my inaction? If I could I would shoot up flares saying letting others know that I am out here on this deserted island trying to reach out.

Last night I had a bizarre dream, a few of them to be exact, but this one stood out this morning. The details are strange but bare with me. I was at my daddy's house and there was a disaster, truck parts EVERYWHERE, half a dead deer laying in the yard, tools scattered all about, and all I wanted to do was leave. I knew the mess wasn't mine, but when I went outside my truck was gone. (keep in mind I had just prior to going in the house been trying to cook bacon in the bed of the truck in a pan of water so I knew my truck was there a minute ago) I knew where my truck was, I knew who had it, and I was PISSED. My cell phone.. in the truck of course.. so I have to go in the house and use the house phone (it happened to be the rotary phone from my childhood that had the 7 foot cord that was always tangled that would just BARELY reach the bathroom if you wanted to talk in private) .. no answer. My daddy comes home and fusses at me about the mess and how I needed to put his tools away like he showed me and why did I let them kill that deer so close to the house (I don't know where the deer even came from) but it was my mess to clean up. I started picking up tools only to realize they had been broken, at this point I just didn't know what to do. My truck pulls in the drive way and out hops the "friend" I knew had the truck. All 300 plus pounds of him. I tossed the tools at him, and went to walk past to get in my truck and leave, but it wasn't going to be so easy. He blocked my way. He told me I wasn't going anywhere, that I was staying right there. I went to dodge around and he knocked me out of the way, my daddy lunged at him, and got his attention and I immediately let loose a wrath of fury. I know I am not the most petite thing but taking on a 300 lb man, I doubt I could actually do that, but I did. I beat until he was a bloody mess and I got up got in my truck and left.

I know you are thinking what in the world is she sharing this for. That is insane. Yes, yes it is, but this could be part of why I am so tired all the time.. this is the mess that plays in my head all night long.. BUT there is another good reason I relayed this story. This is the exact thing I want to do to the stranger. It is almost the story of what the stranger has done in my life. The stranger has come along and created these messes (granted I haven't found any dead deer but I do have plenty of broken tools in my life, church, friends, bootcamp.. ) but the stranger is never going to take responsibility and clean them up. My daddy in the dream could represent all the people out there that are encouraging me, supporting me, and praying that I will get better. They see the mess, they know the tools are broken but all they can do is direct me to pick them up and put them away where they belong. Daddy does step in physically during one part where the "friend" has reached out to physically harm me, distracting the "friend" just long enough that I can get a handle on the situation and beat him down myself. Isn't that the position so many of you are in with me right now? Knocking the stranger away from harming me until I get a handle on beating this thing? And in the end of the dream.. this is what I envision happening.. one day finally being able to beat this stranger down to the point of nothingness and saying "NO YOU ARE DONE.. YOU ARE FINISHED.. LEAVE ME ALONE!"

I am going to have to pick up my own tools and repair them one at a time. I think the first is this blog, my writing, sharing my feelings with the world to see. I hope I get readers to return, if any of you know of ways to spread my words please feel free to let me know.. PS I know how to reply now so be sure to put your email on your comments!

Much love to all two of you that are still reading!
Love
Re

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<<Previous

I'm crazy.. I'm not crazy.. oh I am definitely CRAZY.

A little bit lighter.. a little bit brighter.

The Unbearable Bond.

A little dusting..

Yoga .. the mind healer

Take it for a nice little stroll....

Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs

Looney Toons...

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Black Diamond Slope

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