I Don’t Know How I Feel

I have had several people ask me how I’m doing lately including some friends, family, and doctors. However, the problem is that I don’t know how I feel. I’m not sure if I’m sad and depressed, angry, frustrated, overwhelmed, fearful, lonely, or anxious. Maybe I’m all of those emotions combined. I know I’m not happy, but that’s about all I know. It’s very strange to be full of emotions, but not be able to pinpoint what any of those emotions are.

When people ask me how I’m doing, I just say I’m fine or I’m okay. It’s so much easier than trying to figure out how I’m really doing. Plus, most people don’t want to hear what’s really going on. The only problem with that, is my therapist wants to know how I’m doing, and I struggle to figure it out when I have therapy appointments.

I’ve thought about using a mood tracking app, but they all ask you questions regarding how you’re feeling and how much you feel each emotion. Since I have no clue what I’m feeling, it makes that extremely difficult. I suppose I’ll have to wait on the mood tracker until I’m able to determine how I really feel.

I’m pretty sure that this is all a part of my depression. It’s another problem to work through, and I will get through it, eventually.

Medication Changes Me: Good or Bad?

I have been taking psych meds since I was 14 years old. Ever since I started taking medication, I have always been on a lot of meds. I currently take eight different psych meds, plus other medication for my physical health. I’ve spent more than half my life on medications, and I’ll probably spend the rest of my life taking medications.

Sometimes the meds help and sometimes they make things worse. Medications always have side effects that need to be treated. It’s a pain in the butt. Meds can cause both physical and mental changes. They tend to change the way I act, which is helpful for bipolar treatment, but sometimes it goes too far. I feel like the medications change who I am to begin with. The mental changes that take place are hard to deal with. Right now, I don’t like to go out in public unless I have to and I don’t enjoy things I used to care about. This sounds like depression, but it’s been this way even through manic episodes. Maybe it’s part of the PTSD. I can never tell what’s what anymore.

Will I ever know who I really am? Am I just going to continue to change depending on my medications? How much change is good, and how much is too much? These are questions I ask myself all the time. I was a different person when I was younger; I was social. Now, I’m nothing like that. I know a lot of it is because of my bipolar disorder, but I wonder if some of it is because of the medication as well. Will I ever really know? I guess I just wonder what’s really me and what’s because of the medicine?

Another Day, Another Problem, Another Solution

Today, someone is coming to fix the dishwasher. It’s been broken for almost a week, so I’m happy about the idea of having a dishwasher again. However, I do not like the idea of a strange guy in my house. My dog can look scary when he’s barking, but that will only last about one minute before he wants to play and be pet by this stranger. The dog’s no good for protection. Thank goodness my husband will be here. That makes me feel safe. I’m sure the guy coming to fix the dishwasher is a nice guy, but my mind always thinks about ‘what if’ situations.

I’m still feeling like a screw up. I wish I knew how to get rid of this feeling. I keep doing things that I’m good at, hoping to counteract this emotion, but the feeling is still there. It’s an irrational emotion, but it’s what’s going on with me lately. At least I know that this feeling won’t last forever. With my bipolar disorder, I know that no emotion will ever last forever. I will go up and down quite often. So all I need to do is hang on until this horrible feeling goes away.

Pretending to be feeling okay, when you’re not, is exhausting. I do this mostly around my in-laws. I don’t know why. They know about my bipolar disorder and are very supportive. I guess it’s just my comfort level. I’ll open up over time. I’m getting more and more comfortable around them. I think it’s just because we normally spend our time in large groups. I do better one on one.

Feeling Shameful and Screwed Up

The past couple of days, I’ve been feeling like a total screw up. I feel like I’m doing everything wrong; I’m feeling shame. There are also some things that I’m avoiding because I know/feel as if I’m going to mess it all up. I don’t know where these feelings are coming from. I’m reading into everything that people say; somehow, I can find negative things about myself when others are talking. The “funny” part about it is that people don’t even have to be talking about me for me to find something negative about myself.

I think a lot of it comes from my weight gain. I look in the mirror, and I automatically feel sad and pathetic. All I see is the person I don’t want to be. I feel like I can’t talk to others properly, I can’t stay organized, I can’t workout well enough, I can’t cook right, I can’t get things done, I just can’t do anything right. I wish I knew how to get rid of this feeling. This overwhelming feeling is taking control of my mind and body.

Even though I know that I don’t do everything wrong, I still feel as if I do. I don’t know why that is. For instance, I know I’m a good cook; so why do I feel like the dinners I’m making suck? I’m also a very organized person, but I feel like my house is unorganized and I don’t know how to fix it. I know the truth, but what I don’t know is why I still feel this way even though I know it’s false.

My Tattoos Remind Me

I use tattoos and jewelry as reminders for myself that I have gotten through these times before and I can do it again. My aunt gave me a personalized bracelet that helps me when I’m dealing with suicidal ideations. It reminds me that my family loves me and that I can get through this.

The picture for this post was based on me. The artist was using me as a base of the image. I decided to get this tattoo done after I had gone through a horrible depression. I had also just lost a bunch of weight that I gained during the depression. This tattoo is to remind me that I’ve gone through this before and I can do it again. At this point in life, I do know that I’ve gone through depressions and weight gain before, many times. I do believe that I can get through it again, I just have no clue how long it will take. That is the hard part. It’s hard when you don’t know how long your life will be this way.

I have other tattoos to remind me of other things. I have my father’s plane in flight located between my shoulder blades. On one rib cage is some of the sheet music for Fur Elise, which is also a reminder for my father. On my other rib cage is a quote that reminds me of my friend who was also my AA sponsor. We are still friends, more like family. On my thigh, my tattoo shows my transformation from addiction to sobriety. My back tattoo represents the metaphorical hell I’ve been through with my bipolar episodes and PTSD.

For me, tattoos are a great reminder. They remind me where I’ve been and how far I’ve come. Maybe I should get another one. I think I’ll wait a little while before doing it. I like to make sure I really want one. I don’t want to be impulsive. My old artist is back in Connecticut, but my cousin is a tattoo artist and lives near me.

Slightly Better For Now

I’m feeling slightly better today. I’m still upset about being labeled totally and permanently disabled, even though it’s what I needed to have happen. At least I’m not crying today like I was last night. Plus, it’s just a label; it doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll be disabled forever, even though it feels like that sometimes. It just sucks because I’m already doing everything I can do and the result is not very good. Oh well, at least I’m trying. I am proud of myself for doing all that I can do, whether it helps or not. If I wasn’t working at being healthy, then I wouldn’t be able to take pride in that aspect of my life.

I talked to my husband this morning about how I’m feeling. He kept trying to make me feel better; it was sweet and thoughtful. At least he cares enough to try. I have to give him credit for that.

I did sleep last night, but I didn’t fall asleep until 5am. I slept for 5 hours, which isn’t too bad. It’s better than not sleeping at all. I find it odd to be depressed but not sleeping very much. Usually, when I’m depressed, I sleep all the time. So does that mean I’m in a mixed state? Or can I have symptoms of both depression and mania, and still be in a depression? I’m not sure how it works. Anyway, hopefully things will continue to improve, even if it’s only one tiny bit at a time.

Depressed and Disabled

Yesterday ended up being a difficult day. The evening was the hard part. After my husband left for work, this deep heart-rending, wretched feeling set in. I started to feel ashamed of who I am; that is a feeling I haven’t felt in quite a while. I thought it was because of my weight, but that wasn’t it. I spent more time crying tonight than I have in months.

My mom called and we talked for a while. I started to tell her how I was feeling. As I was talking to her I figure out what the issue was. It was that my doctor completed my total and permanent disability paperwork. My therapist was also willing to do the paperwork if I needed it. Because of this paperwork, I realized that I had been on disability for 78 months. Wow, that is a long time. It’s something about being told I’m permanently disabled. I know it’s just a term, but it’s already been so long, and I’m not doing much better. I guess that’s why they diagnosed me as treatment resistant.

No matter what do or how hard I try, there’s always going to be a problem. I’ll go up and down; it will get better and worse, but the possibility of me becoming and staying stable is not likely. When my doctor filled out that paperwork for the total and permanent disability, he did so because he believes that to be true. He doesn’t believe that I will get back to fully functioning. I suppose I don’t believe I will get back to what I had before; a job and a social life. I don’t think everything is a failure; I’m just questioning it all.

The good thing is that I know this will pass. I will have an up-swing again, these feelings will go away, and I’ll deal with the problems of mania. At least my life stays interesting; it’s always something.

No More ECT

Tomorrow would have been my next ECT treatment. Instead, I talked to my doctor a week or two ago and canceled the appointment. I’ve been wanting to stop these treatments for a while, and I finally did. Now, I’m nervous. I’ve been doing this for 15 months. Even though it’s hard on my mind and my body, it has become normal. All of the “what if’s” are going through my mind. What if ECT actually was helping? What if I slip into a huge manic episode? What if my depression gets worse? What if I have to re-start it, will I be willing to do that?

If I have to re-start ECT, then I don’t get to pick up where I left off. I would have to re-start by going three times a week for a month. Then once a week for four weeks, then every other week for eight sessions, and then finally back to once a month. I can’t do that again. I think I would rather try the IV Ketamine, and that terrifies me. Treatment resistant bipolar depression sucks. I wish I could take a vacation from it. Sometimes I feel like giving up. I know I’m not going to, but I want to. I wish I could be the person that didn’t always do the right thing.

Lessons I’ve Learned: Money Doesn’t Buy Happiness

Another one of the many lessons I’ve learned is that money doesn’t buy happiness. Having money may make life a bit easier. For example, if I had an unlimited amount of money, it would be no problem to pay all of the bills I received. I wouldn’t have anxiety attacks when receiving large bills. There wouldn’t be any stress when it came to figuring out how to pay every bill. Based on that information, money can make things less stressful, but that isn’t happiness. Money doesn’t last, but your emotional state is something that does last. I know that having more money wouldn’t make me happy.

Even though I don’t have that much money, it doesn’t mean I’m unhappy. It may mean that I’m stressed and overwhelmed. In fact, I don’t even think that money has anything to do with my current depression or any of my depressions. Depression is an internal feeling; it is something that goes on within me that I have no control over. For me, a part of happiness lies in the relationships I have with my family and friends and with my capabilities to do certain things. Personally, I would say that love and support from family and friends is a big aspect of happiness for many.

Talking about “happiness” is very difficult because of my depression. For those of us that sadly have to deal with depression, know that no one thing can fix it. Knowing that my family loves and supports me is nice, but it doesn’t change my emotional state. Most of the time, medication doesn’t even make a difference. However, when you find the right medication, it changes everything.

My Weight Gain Is Out Of Control

I have been gaining weight over the last six months. It has become especially bad in just the last few months. I’ve gained about a total of 40 pounds. It doesn’t seem to matter what I do, I just keep gaining weight. I’m doing my best to control it, but I seem to be wildly hungry almost all of the time. There are even times that I’m full, but I still want to eat for some reason. I also tend to have difficulties sleeping. I’m hungry every time I wake up, which happens at least two times a night, sometimes as often as four times a night. I have a feeling that it is a medication issue, but I have to be very careful about my medication changes.

I’m working out with my husband at the gym. I’m also buying healthier foods to keep in the house. That way even if I do snack more often than I should, at least I’m eating healthier. Over the years, I have had several periods where I gained a large amount of weight. The weight gain is always difficult to handle, but every time I eventually lose the weight and get back to my normal size. I know that I will be able to lose the weight eventually, but it’s hard to live with the weight gain. Luckily, I’m blessed with a husband that doesn’t care about my size. He supports me no matter what; he is always willing to help me once I’m ready to get back in shape. Working out together is a fun activity for the two of us. It’s something we used to do together five days a week before we even started dating.

I wish I didn’t have to go up and down with my weight to such extremes. I know that it is part of the bipolar disorder and the medications that go along with it, but it’s very difficult to deal with. Depression can increase the weight gain, and the weight gain can worsen the depression. It’s a vicious cycle. I’m looking forward to the end of this brutal period. I know I can lose the weight and feel better about myself again, I just don’t know how long it will be until that happens.

My Side of the Pole

Bipolar – Mental Health

Category: Depression