“You create your opportunities by asking for them.” – Patty Hansen
Standing up for yourself is one of the most important things you can do for yourself. Taking initiative is what provides possibilities in our lives. I have a hard time asking for anything, especially for help, but it is something that I’m working on.
My mother-in-law called. I answered and had a nice talk with her. She told me about one of our cousins who lives close by. He just graduated from college and his wife is throwing him a party tonight at 7pm. My mother-in-law asked me if I wanted to go to the party. My heart started racing and my anxiety rapidly increased. I almost never say ‘no’ to people, but this time I did. I honestly said, ‘It would be too much for me’. I was worried that my mother-in-law would be upset or disappointed, but she wasn’t at all. Her exact response was ‘Good for you for knowing your boundaries.’
I finally set boundaries and did the right thing for myself! And even better, I didn’t disappoint or upset anyone while doing so. I always think I need to say ‘yes’ to everything, even if it would be too difficult for me to do. I’ve been working on setting boundaries for a while now. Today is the first time that I said ‘no’ right away and with ease. I’m so proud of myself right now. Practice makes perfect.
I struggle when people around me get intense. There are a couple of people in my life that get very intense when they are upset. It makes me extremely uncomfortable and it can even start an anxiety attack. I don’t always know how to get those people to calm down. My husband got very intense the other day, so I asked him to try to calm down and to do it for me. I told him that I couldn’t handle it. Sometimes that works and sometimes it doesn’t. That method would only work for my husband. I don’t know how to do that for other people. Most of the time, I’m too freaked out to even try to ask someone to relax.
I’ve heard it said many times before, ‘Challenges aren’t there to stop us; they’re there to show us what we’re made of.’ If that’s true, then I’m made of medications. It’s my daily medications and my as needed meds (such as Valium) that allow me to face my challenges. Okay, maybe I’m being a little dramatic, but I honestly don’t think I would be able to do anything without my meds. I can do a lot without Valium; it’s just there in case I need it. While on vacation, I have needed it more, but there have been times this past week when I did things without taking any. I’m going out with my mom and grandma this afternoon for mother’s day and I’m going to do it without taking any Valium, or at least that’s the plan. I can do it, I can do it. I tell myself over and over and eventually it helps. Everyone faces challenges on a daily basis, big and small. Even if I have to take daily medications and some other medications as needed to get through these challenges, at least I’m getting through them. At least I give it a try.
One challenge I’m dealing with right now is getting my weekly blood test results over to the pharmacy so I can get my prescription for Clozapine. I had my blood drawn at the local hospital and then I was told that they could not send my results to the pharmacy even though my psychiatrist requested it on the lab order, he gave them the pharmacy fax number and everything. All labs are closed on Sundays where I am, even the one in the hospital. So tomorrow morning, I have to call the hospital lab and Quest labs and explain the entire situation to them. Hopefully they will have my results and will fax it over to my pharmacy. If not, then I’m going to have to go to the hospital to talk to someone in person. The hospital is 40 minutes away. If that doesn’t work, then I don’t know what I’m going to do, but I will find a way to keep trying. There has to be a solution.
This is a huge challenge for me. I’m extremely uncomfortable talking to people. My anxiety increases, I start rocking back and forth, I lose my words, my heart rate increases, and I start shaking. Maybe no one else notices it, but I feel exposed. I feel as if everyone in the world can see that I can’t even ask people questions. I’m getting a little better at it, but it’s still terrifying to me. Sometimes, I write down my questions in case I lose my focus due to the anxiety. That way, no matter what, I can get my questions answered. I need to at least try to do it. The times that I try and it works out, I feel so proud of myself. It’s a huge accomplishment. I do my best not to let my challenges stop me; I try to find my way around them, one thing at a time.
Going out, whether it’s for fun or to get things done, can be very difficult. I like to isolate, I prefer to be by myself. I’m also extremely hard on myself. Whenever I go out, I have to get dressed, and that is always a reminder of my weight gain. Due to my bipolar, my weight has fluctuated over the years. Right now, I’m gaining weight, which makes me feel bad about myself. Weight gain really messes with my self-confidence. When I stay home, I don’t have to worry about other people judging me; I only have to worry about my own judgments, which is hard enough.
Everyone judges themselves, especially women, but I take it too far and let my thoughts interfere with my activities. I wish it was something that I could fix. If I’m not self-conscious about my weight, then it’s something else. I’m always going to find some way to judge myself. All women struggle with confidence, but not everyone lets those fears and thoughts interfere with their lives. Actually, everyone struggles with confidence, it’s not just women.
I’m not so sure how to get past these insecurities and fears. I’m not sure if I can handle some of the activities that I’ve been asked to do. Not all of my insecurities are due to my weight. I’m also terrified to go to large public events. I have anxiety attacks when I feel trapped and when I’m surrounded by people. There’s something coming up that my husband wants me to go to, and it does sound like fun, as long as I’m going with him. My husband is like my security net, he makes me feel safe no matter where I am. However, we’re not sure if he can go to the event because of work. I tried to explain to him how difficult it would be for me to go without him or with anyone else, but I’m not sure if he understands. I know that he really just wants me to get out of the house more and do healthy things; however, there is a big difference between trying more things and pushing yourself too far.
I wonder all the time if I’ll ever have my old life back; the life where I enjoyed going out to public events and I could manage my life without too many problems. I just want to feel free again; instead, I feel trapped by my fears and insecurities. I’m not sure if I will have that freedom again, but I’m still trying. I feel as if I’m wearing masks to cover up my feelings of insecurity, insignificance, and worthlessness. I pretend to feel good about myself, even when I don’t. I may feel bad about myself, but at least I know that those thoughts are not really accurate. I know that I’m better that I believe myself to be, I just wish I could really believe in myself. Hopefully I will one day, but until then, pretending to be okay is better than nothing at all.
I have been nervous for days now about the blood work I had to get done today. Most of my nerves were because of the inappropriate phlebotomist from last week that kept asking me personal questions and telling me what I should do for my bipolar disorder. I have been practicing all week just what to say to her if she was the one drawing my blood again. I was prepared; at least I kept telling myself I was prepared. I was ready to tell her, “I don’t want to talk” if she asked me a question, or to ask for someone else completely. To be honest, I wasn’t prepared. I took a Valium to calm myself out of my anxiety attack and I went to the lab.
I arrived at the lab and stood in line to check in. I made a 2pm appointment, but they were running late. At least my Valium was kicking in, I was able to breathe, my chest pains stopped, I started shaking less, and my mind began to slow. I looked behind the counter and only saw one receptionist and one phlebotomist. Then my heart started to beat a little faster again, it was the same woman from last time. As I walk past her, she asks me “Did you think about what we talked about last time?” I can’t believe that she was that invasive two weeks in a row, better yet, she broke HIPPA laws two weeks in a row. I was surprised, but my response comment came to me quickly. I told her, “Yes, and I’m happy with the way I’m doing things.” I couldn’t believe it, but she actually backed off. The only other things she said was just normal chit-chat, to make time go by quicker. What I said was nothing like what I planned on saying, but it still seemed to work, and that’s all that really matters.
If she says something to me again next week, I will report her. It’s really hard for me to report her or tell her boss about the situation; I’m not sure why it’s so difficult, it just is. My husband keeps telling me I should report her. He’s probably right; I should probably do it for the people she treats after me. Even just the thought of reporting her, or having my husband report her, makes me start to have a panic attack. I don’t know if I could do it; I don’t know if I want to do it.
An update regarding the Clozapine: My fatigue has been decreasing every day and I have no other side effects that I’m noticing. I informed my psychiatrist these facts and that I completed my weekly blood work today. He told me I could up my Clozapine dose to 125 mg. I was so excited when I heard, I was worried he was going to stop the medication because of my blood work results, but he is still allowing me to move forward on my dosages.
I had quite an interesting visit to the lab today to get my weekly blood work done. I went to the same lab I normally go to, and as usual, I ended up with a new phlebotomist. I signed in for my appointment 10 minutes early and then sat down in the waiting room. Within a couple of minutes, a woman yells my name and says, “Come back and go to room 5”. Normally, they come into the waiting room to call your name and walk back to the desired room with you; I was already off to an odd start. I sat down and she entered the room moments later. I told her that they normally use my right arm.
She looks at me and asks if I’m okay. I said I was very tired, that it’s a side effect of the new medication I’m on, the med that is causing me to have my blood work done every week. Then the odd and inappropriate questions and comments began. She asked what medication I was on that required weekly blood work; I told her it was Clozapine. She asked why I decided to go on this medication; I reluctantly told her I’ve been dealing with suicidal ideations for 5 or 6 months. I didn’t want to answer her questions, but I have a hard time saying “no” to people. She asked if I see a therapist; I said I see both a therapist and psychiatrist; I informed her that I’ve been dealing with this since I was 14. She asked what I was being treated for; I told her I’m diagnosed with bipolar 1 and PTSD. Then she asked why I was diagnosed with PTSD. None of this is any of her business, but I was so uncomfortable and struggle to tell people to back off, so I hesitantly told her it was from a bad relationship.
Then she started to tell me that her husband was schizophrenic and he took medication too, as if that’s supposed to mean something to me and make it okay for her to ask me these questions. At this point, she began telling me what I should do to help my disorders, as if I don’t try to help myself and I don’t know what’s good or bad for me. She told me I should start doing some kickboxing or martial arts, which would help to empower me so I felt better. I told her I would think about it, but she kept telling me that I should do it. I explained that I had a double knee surgery and I have to take things easy, and she told me I was using that as an excuse. She asked if I used meditation; I told her it was something I was working on. Her next question was if I took time journal at all. I told her that I just started a blog and I found it extremely helpful. She responded by telling me that I should write everything out by hand, that typing doesn’t have the same effect. I told her that it works for me, but she kept telling me what I should do.
I called my mom as soon as this appointment was over and told her all about it. I don’t always know what’s appropriate and I needed to make sure I wasn’t overreacting. I wasn’t sure if being offended was necessary, I don’t trust my emotions lately. My mom reaffirmed my emotions. She told me that it was okay to be upset; this woman should not have asked me these questions. My mom told me I was “should on”. She made me laugh and loosen up a little bit. Since I struggle so much with saying no, my mom helped me find the appropriate words in case it happens again. I can say, “I’m not comfortable with this conversation. Can we please stop talking?” She also told me that I could talk to a supervisor if I wanted or I could simply ask for another phlebotomist. Talking to my mom validated the emotions I had about my experience. While I decided I don’t want to do anything about it unless it happens again, my mom helped me feel more comfortable with what I could say if I decide to talk to a supervisor about it. After having a short conversation with my mom, I felt as if I could take control next time; I could decide what I’m comfortable saying. I’m no longer nervous about my next appointment. I always feel more comfortable after talking with my mom.
My Side of the Pole 