Stil Here....

Having some "issues" Haven't forgotten anyone, I will return soon! ~Mental Mari

Avoiding The Zombie Life…

We’ve all seen it, hell most of us have probably been there at one time or another, I know I have! I call it zombie life, now you’d think I’m referring to the non-stop sleeping that comes with most medication changes. Not really, the non-stop sleep-a-thons are only a drop of water in the bucket when it comes to zombie life. When I’m talking about the zombie life I’m talking about being “overly medicated”, or being medicated with too many “zombie pills.”
Now I can explain. What I’ve seen, and been through. Let me first say I’ve been this zombie, more than once in my life. I spent years on the psychiatrist couch with yes/no answers. My mental health wasn’t a priority for years. Yes, I took the meds, all of them, but I could barely keep up with an actively paced work environment. There I stood monotone, pale, with hollow eyes. I was alive, but I wasn’t living! Each time I went into see this "medication happy” psychiatrist shed toss another one on the pile until I couldn’t stand any longer. I crumbled under the weight of these meds. Antidepressants, mood stabilizers, antipsychotics, sleep medication, oh and weight loss medication! Yes, that particular doctor saw my small stature ballooning so she thought I needed a prescription weight loss medications. I was still in my yes/ no status, until my body and mind crumbled into pieces. The agoraphobia took over I refused more medication but the psychosis was so bad! 
I was put on suicide watch at a state run facility, a hold if you will. Most of you know once they put that hold on you, there’s no going back. At least until the hold is over is what I learned. The “acting psychiatrist” decided I needed new medication…..nope, I refused! Not another pill, not another bottle. I was hallow inside and out, I was a zombie. 
       I had no idea one of my childhood friends was working in this madhouse. I refused everything, not going to a “group”, not going to eat, and fuck these new medications, I was going to lay here under my covers and pray until the “hold” was over. It was early, real early, when the lights flipped on and the gentleman was there to get me out of the bed I hadn’t left in a couple days. I heard his voice booming as I sank further under my covers. I know that voice….one of a kind, I told him to “fuck off”, knowing who it was. He knew mine of course and ripped my covers off of me. I was fully dressed, but felt naked, exposed, and empty. “Mari, what the hell are you doing in here?” All I could do was cry.
          He was my link to the outside world, we spent the majority of our lives together. “Get up” he said, “let’s go talk.” When we escaped to the outside world for a cigarette I really needed, he was upset, and confused. “Mari, you’re not the one, what the hell are you doing in here?” He ran to get my chart, did a quick review seeing that I was refusing the new medication. He understood, you can only take so much! Here I am “locked away” and you want to throw new shit at me…..NO! So we talked, he explained that the doctor I was seeing was well known for "over prescribing." “WHAT”, I was confused. He told me stories of people that were “return zombies” in the facility I was in. In his opinion the State Mental Hospital was where the real work got done. He said he watched patient, after patient “go away” to “get better.” Each patient came back well balanced, and doing well, only needing medication management. Each time the doctor would change their entire medication regiment, and add what she saw fit. “You don’t belong in here Mari, get off this hold, get the fuck out, and never come back!” DONE! It was a 36 hour suicide hold…that was the minimum I had to do, then I was able to “check myself out” against the attending physician’s orders.
           I never went back to that psychiatrist. She had caused enough damage, she had me “zombied out.” I was no longer going to be that person with yes/no answers. Now even being proactive the “zombie affect” can get you! You have got to watch your behavior, if you can’t see it, someone you know can. I’d write down hours I was sleeping, how I felt, if I was eating. The basics really. I got back to “The Good Doc” as soon as I could. It meant moving four hours away to receive her services, I was desperate, and I trusted her, not to over medicate me. 
           It was an adjustment, getting stable again. I basically went back on the regimen I was taking before this pill pushing psychiatrist had me completely zombie out. There have been medication changes over the years, recently I had to switch antipsychotic, and one of my mood stabilizers was basically over powering the one I had been on for a zillion years. “The Good Doc” rarely does medication changes, but after years on the same regimen I needed a tweak just last month. I had to watch myself daily, the medications can cause partial facial paralysis. AKA major zombie face. The level was too high, causing my face to freeze, not able to express emotions with my face. I had this unbelievable twitch above my eye, and my voice came out monotone with no expression. I never said switching meds was easy, only necessary at times. 
Today I’m fighting to get use to this “new med.” It’s not easy to be mentally ill, it’s even harder finding the right regimen you need to lead a positive productive life….outside the “zombie zone.”       ~ Mental Mari

My Cocktail…Not Yours….

We’ve all done it…and rightly so I think, we’ve all compared the medication we are prescribed, or had experience with it at least. “This one makes you feel amazing wonder woman” says to another. I was at a low-budget public mental health facility. So I’m listening in at this point to two oddball patients… “Stay away from this one the other replies, but ask for this one”… I’m rolling my eyes at this point. Yes, some side effects may range from irritability, to swimming thru mud for days with little to no improvement. 4-6 weeks before they you will see therapeutic levels, in the meantime your trying to survive the side effects long enough to make it to the 4-6 weeks! I know I’ve been there!

No psych medication works the same way in any two people is a good rule of thumb. I know I was naive once upon a time. I jumped on and off antidepressants because one worked wonders for one person, another person saw great results on another! I made myself sick demanding we change something to elevate the psychosis I my head. All the while throwing myself off mentally and physically. I was fueling my Bipolar II with antidepressants, and expecting any kind of results other than complete craziness. I was undiagnosed and unknowingly playing with fire.

            So here’s my suggestion as a person with over three decades of diagnosed mental illness. Be honest tell your doctor what your feeling, what’s working, what’s not. If you can’t remember things write them on a list of things to talk about at your next appointment. I’m that girl pulling out her notes as we walk into “The Good Docs” office. Everything will be fine once I’ve walked thru that door. I can’t remember shit except, “I don’t like this new med.”…. Well that’s really not giving your psychiatrist much to work with. Other options out there…most likely but they may have similar side effects leaving you swimming in that mud pile, and in circles I might add. Make it easy, type the effects in your phone, or write them out and bring it in with you.

So what does your psychiatrist want to know? Well, depends on your therapy, and if things are working for or against you? Pay attention to your sleep, how much, not enough, if a medication has you passed out all of the time, jittery out of your skin, or do you feel great? For me my sleeping habits are the number one factor in how I’m doing. “The Good Doc” knows my sleeping patterns oh so well. I’m kind of an all or nothing kinda gal! She nails me down instantly with that question! All I’m saying is being able to communicate with your psychiatrist is essential, you have to participate in your care.

Sitting there with yes/no and I don’t know answers will most likely end up on all kinds of meds. Most of which they were probably guessing you needed because of your blank reaction to the “So, how are you?” question. So find a psychiatrist you like! One that’s easy to tell you’re anything from angry, manic, homicidal, too suicidal. Personally I lay it all down to “The Good Doc,” she’s been my psychiatrist for the last 9 years. (Yes, I’ve taken off a few times to “start a new life”). I always keep going back to “The Good Doc” because she has treated me for so long, mostly of the time successfully. I know she will nail me down within the first three questions, along with weight, and medication levels in my blood.

            So be proactive is all I’m saying! Participate in your therapy, make it work for you, not against you! You’re the one that has to articulate to your doctor how you are feeling, and how medications are working for you. Remember what works for me may not work for you, for me…lesson learned! ~ Mental Mari

The Foul Mouthed One In the Corner Said It….

            I wouldn’t let anyone talk to me, the way I talk to myself! I wouldn’t even want to be around someone that had this kind of toxicity in their head. The toxic words that I could spew would be enough to keep anyone away. I think its way past negative self-talk, more like a huge voice screaming in my ear what a complete FUCK UP I can be. Self-talk, yes most defiantly the problem is telling the difference between logical vs illogical self-talk. It can be a blurred line for me at times.

At times I can have full conversations in my head. My ex-boyfriend use to find the “looks on my face” during these internal conversations, and crack up. “If I only knew what was going on in that brain of yours” he would say.  He really didn’t want to know…not really.

The voice can be persistent, constant, angry, and extremely loud… personally that’s my illogical, side taking over. I’m crud, foul mouthed, and tell myself I’m worthless. All this in one tiny brain… damn it can be exhausting. “How much of this is real?” I think when I get a moment of clarity? Now these moments of clarity don’t always come. When they do I’m pretty good at identifying the difference. The foul mouthed one in the corner of my brain is the one to blame.

            Now let’s look at the positive self-talking voice. The soothing one that comes after the storm. I like that soothing voice that is logical, and helps me think straight. Positive self-talk is always there, just often not a loud as its counterpart. My self-talk brings me moments of peacefulness in my brain that is full of ciaos. I listen to this side,.....to this “self-talk” if you will. I remember tripping on acid a million and one times searching for clarity, and that soothing voice. Somehow, someway I felt at peace on these “trips” a tranquil moment I could have during my otherwise chaotic life I was living at the time. Somehow some way yes with LOT’S of therapy the good side of self-talk came out.

I’ve learned that that little tiny soothing voice can really be more powerful than the loud negative person who also lives in my brain. So with a lot of talk-therapy I learned to tune into that soothing voice. The one that use to be the quiet one is most defiantly is louder than the negative self-talk. It’s not easy, hell I use to use acid just to gain a clear mind! Not anymore! A lot of time and work went into strengthen that positive voice. One of my many therapists asked me on my first visit. “So, what are you here for?” Instead of spilling out my one hundred and one problems, I came to the root. Self-talk. I’m my own worst critic, and I had to relearn how to think.

Looking back at my childhood its evident where the self-talk started as a child. Constantly being berating as a child is what formed that loud, angry person in my head! With a lot of work that voice has ALMOST been silenced! When I get in very stressful situations I can revert to the past, believe me I try not to. I try to smother other that loud voice no matter how loud it tries to get. I am no longer a child to be berated by myself or others. When the foul mouthed one comes into play, I use a simple techniques to strengthen that positive person in my head! Deep breathing is my best friend, a few good deep breaths settle my mind and allow me to come back to reality! Find your peaceful place people, and don’t listen to the menace in your head!  ~Mental Mari

And They All Fall Down…

          Eventually the faint of heart all die out. Hell my entire family has fallin off my communication list. I decided it was time to get myself out of some situations that have honestly been weighing me down. I’ve discovered that sometimes you have to let people go. People can apparently be undercover triggers. I feel like in life there are those that want the best, or understand what is best for you. Then there are those that are selfish and want what they want, when they want it. Ding! Ding! Ding Mari! Wake up! Meanwhile I cannot continue to let my life be invaded by unwanted visitors!

            In order to have a mentally healthy lifestyle you have to do the opposite of what I’ve done. I’m stable, I have my car, my house, and my things, bills are paid, we're good! But, I seem to always be extending the olive branch to someone that just do not have their shit together. I have had people that don’t give two shits about my mental life invade my space, but no longer….see I have finally identified the trigger. Ready…set…eliminate…

            I hate to feel like I’m being cold hearted, but at my age there’s no reason to have frequent visitors. See that’s one of the million reasons there’s downsides of being disabled. Suffering from mental illness like agoraphobia keeps me locked away most days. However the obligation to open the door feels like it’s there, no matter what’s running throughout my brain that day.

 If not its “rescue 911” what’s the matter with Mari? Is she in there? Has she offed herself….well no…but if you keep imposing…

...........ahhhhhh......... deep breathing works!

 I have my circle of “the crazies” in which I touch base with every day. They don't impose. Like me they all suffer in with one disorder of another. I love them.  Separate people all going through the same bullshit. You see the circle I’ve created is full of dynamic personalities, there to support each other if we can hold our own selves up that day. These are the people I need in my life. Healthy, productive, medication taking, drug free spirits! That’s where I need to be guys.

Today was full of revelations of sorts. I need to clean up my environment, maybe I won’t feel so warn down all of the time. Positive thoughts… Sorry about my “mood” earlier. Happens. Have a good one! Think I’ll be deleting contact information immediately! ~Mental Mari

Probably Better....

                 Probably better I don't write a blog today....I'm in a foul mood. I just don't appreciate people that impose on my life...it's hard enough......see you tomorrow people! ~Mental Mari

The Biggest Lie I Ever Told Myself….

            I can beat it… probably the biggest lie I ever told myself. When I obtained my first diagnosis Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) things were looking up. At least I now knew why I was acting so out of character, pop a pill Mari, pop a pill! Something I had been doing that was recreational fun for years. No problem, then it can go away. If I only knew then, what I know now maybe I wouldn’t have been so optimistic. The “I can beat this” attitude plagued my life for a better part of a century. Truth be told, there is no magic pill people. There are pills. Lots of medications that can help curve the serious symptoms of mental illness, but to beat it, I don't know.

            PTSD can be crippling for the person if affects. Night sweats, heighten awareness, flashbacks, and noise sensitivity are my personal triggers. No one told me this was a battle I’d be fighting daily for the rest of my life! Seems unfair, what did I do? Short answer…nothing. Long answer something traumatic has happened in your life, could be an event in which you were threatened physically, mentally, or sexually. Now I’m not saying that everyone that have these symptoms have PTSD. Rather I am stating that if you notice there are “triggers” that cause you to act out of your normal character, time to make that appointment, and seek out treatment.

            What is she talking about?  Flash backs, night sweats, and noise sensitivity, well these are a few of my personal triggers that I try to avoid at all costs. For example grocery shopping is my own personal hell, even on a good day. Crowds of people, bright lights above, and noises personally can flash me back to the abuse I suffered as a child. The worst, the absolute worse is at the grocery store for me! That “noises” get me, so you’re asking what could be so bad that you completely leave a full cart, all to run for the nearest exit. The noise goes like this “SMACK” followed by a crying child who is no doubt in trouble. That’s it for me! I see it, I hear it, and I fear it. I’ve left full carts of groceries right where I stood, which always makes my child irritated. Here she thinks that she’s about to get her Oreos, and mom is running for the nearest exit!

            What in the world you’re asking yourself? She’s insane…no it’s all part of my PTSD diagnosis, and that noise brings can bring on flashbacks. Flashbacks can be extremely real. I sweat, I cry, I shake, and I feel like I’m being abused again. The feelings all come back, as I revert back to a child who was physically abused, all those decades ago. I feel stupid, my self-talk takes over, and here I sit thinking the belt is coming once more time, when in all reality, there is no belt, not anymore.

            So, she doesn’t shop, no groceries in her house? No, I’ve tried all kinds of things in order to avoid stirring up this thing called PTSD. I’ve shopped at midnight, I’ve tried 5AM, but one “smack” and all that shopping has gone to waste. Not to mention the attitude I get from other shoppers, and the cashier, when I walk up to the only open register in the store with a grocery cart full to the brim. So that worked for a while, years I’d put my headphones in and rush down every isle hastily grabbing what “makes sense”. Often coming up short, hot dogs, no buns. Whatever it takes to just get OUT of there. "Sorry no ice cream, too many people, couldn’t get down the aisle" Id explain to my daughter.

So what do you do, groceries have to be purchased, my child needs to eat! I tried talk therapy, sending people to shop for me, that gets expensive, meditating first, ear phones, deep breathing I believe I’ve tried all the tools that I know of. Nothing keeps the flashbacks away, and I feel completely crippled. Until I got my “power back”, online grocery shopping has my cabinets full, and my anxiety at bay. I’m now able to choose what I want and need, I have my power back! Look for your “out”, find a way to adapt, don’t be crippled be proactive!

I know, I know sounds easy! Believe me I know it’s not easy, otherwise I would have figured out how to beat it years ago. PTSD is sneaky like that, hard to control and can pop up on you with no warning!  Look for your “power”, avoid your triggers as much as you can! It’s been a lifetime ago since I endured the violence that was in my life, I’ve been living with PTSD as far back as my mind will let me wonder. Still I hear “that noise” and I crumble…. Don’t crumble, avoid triggers, and handle your anxiety the best you can! ~Mental Mari

Balancing Act….

            My mind is clear today, and for that I am grateful! However it hasn’t always been like this. Hell it’s only been two days of normalcy in the last two months. I want to encourage all of you that are doing the balancing act in life, do something about it! If something has been wrong, and you can tell you’re not thinking clearly, and other people are noticing as well. You somehow, someway have to make it to a psychiatric appointment. Step one, get an evaluation, diagnosis, and get to work. Mental illness is a battle, and its one you’re going to fight every day. So get treatment, get leveled out, because the world keeps moving no matter the state of mind your in.

Whatever type of family you have, you have a place, and responsibilities. As nice as it would be to have your head in the sky, or bury yourself under your covers and sleep day and night, there is someone, somewhere that needs you! So what’s the big deal? Well there really isn’t a big deal unless you call wasting away a big deal. I encourage you to get out from under those blankets, and take life minute by minute. Some days that’s all you can do.

            Granted I was that person, for years! I know exactly what it’s like to crave your bed, feeling like you’re carrying a ton of bricks! I think I slept for two years straight before I got leveled off with my PTSD, and Bipolar II diagnosis. Medication adjustments, commitment to a healthy lifestyle, keeping all appointments, TAKING YOUR MEDS, and blood work, lots of blood work! Stick with it, I promise eventually you will level off, and start to lead a functioning life.

            Who is she to tell me what to do, I mean she’s obviously “mental” too? Well I’m not a doctor, not a psychiatrist, most defiantly not by any means a physiologist. Who I am is a person who has struggled with mental illness for my entire 37 years on earth. Mostly untreated, so I know all about signs and symptoms! I’ve read everything from the DVSMs to autobiographies about people with all kinds of mental illness. Sometimes I find myself in those pages I read. I read and reread, often I see more than I want to, have to admit to a lot more than I want too. Heads up, do the research yourself! Be proactive, and please don’t diagnose yourself, especially from reading a blog. Get help, it’s out there!

            Now you’ve made your way to a psychiatrist, and you’ve been given a diagnosis, that’s wonderful, I know doesn’t seem wonderful to be labeled “mental” but look at it like this…at least now you know what’s plaguing your life, and now you can stop wasting away, and get to it! I am not going to tell you it’s going to all be ok, that life with mental illness isn’t easy, because that is far from the truth! Your about to embark on the most challenging journey you’ve ever been on. So pull up your boot straps, and let’s get to work!

 Psychiatric medications are harsh, able to put you down in a second with the side effects. That there’s just no way around possible side effects. I’ve never met a psych med that agreed with my body at first. The constant tiredness, the vomiting on a frequent basis, the urge to curl in a ball and give it all up! Yeah, psych meds are horrible to say the least side effects are, they can range from dry mouth, to dry mouth to making you suicidal…I know right, suicidal, yes! Be open and honest with your psychiatrist. Make a list of your symptoms, you have got to be able to articulate what is going on with your body, and in your head. I promise you there is light at the end of this very long tunnel! Don’t stop taking your meds, no matter how good you feel, discuss the side effects your having with your doctor, there are alternatives out there, and your doctor can work with you. Take care of yourself…you deserve it! ~Mental Mari

            

Leveling Out…Maybe

              Could it really be true? Did a magical fairy come see me last night? She must have dusted me with the “good stuff” because it actually feels like I’m leveling out people? I’m calm as I ask myself “Could this be me having my one week of clarity?” Oh man, I don’t want to waste one second because I know what follows! I tend to get twelve good weeks a year. I have no idea why it’s exactly 7-10 days I get a month away from utterly crumbling. Twelve glorious weeks a year where I am completely coherent, have a clear heart, and head. I know. I know. All that medication, and you get twelve weeks a year? Being diagnoses with Bipolar II w/ Mixed Episodes leaves me yo-yoing throughout the month. Well, yes that’s what I get, it’s been like this since my diagnosis over a decade ago, as my blog will take you through my ups and downs! So let me slow my roll before I go feeling elated! Time to do the checklist, I won’t believe it’s my special week until I’ve accessed the situation.

I know my typical indicators I can mentally run through my checklist quickly. First let’s make sure this good mood isn’t mania creeping back up on me! They can look one in the same when they first come on. Please no! “Calm yourself Mari”…o.k. checklist. I’m not swinging from the rafters, don’t feel moody as fuck, not driving like a complete maniac. I was apparently a race car driver in my previous life! I know where things are, and I’m not scatter brained. I even know where my wallet and keys are currently. Bills actually got paid so I’m not spending money that I don’t have. Looking good so far!  I can sit still… maybe no longer manic, well not to where I’m being too abnormal…I defiantly don’t feel like starting a Fortune 500 Company, or going backpacking across Europe. No I feel calmer than when I’m manic. I’m not hearing that annoying voice that always convinces me to do shit I don’t want to do. One by one I’m checking down the list, hey I might be o.k.!

            O.k. so first round was good, let’s look at the flip side. I’m not emotional, and crying for no reason. The worry has subsided for now. I felt refreshed, and renewed when I got up this morning, which is odd, very odd. I feel like I could hold a conversation without being an emotional wreck (yes, even the grocery list can break me mentally.) I don’t feel like being under my blankets, buried under my zillion pillows. Doors and windows are open letting in fresh air I normally don’t breathe. We won’t talk about the way sunlight irritates me more than an extra happy person! Nope, I don’t seem depressed, can it REALLY be time! I’ll have to test this theory out on other “humans” when they arise. Test my irritability level. No, not depressed, I feel strong!

            Dare I say it’s HERE!!!! Clarity my friend, I how I miss you other days of the month! I dare not make any large decisions while I’m cycling. I save the big stuff for this week. No wonder I run myself into the ground after my 7-10 days! On deck first is quality time with my girl! She loves me unconditionally, she helps when I’m “sick” and things go astray. My daughter is amazing, I don’t have a clue how she deals with me….maybe a movie, that’s her favorite! Of course she’s not going to arise for hours, so maybe I can undo some of the ciaos I’ve created in the house. I mean why there are 6 pairs of shoes on the living room floor! Good time to call family, and act like I’m thrilled to hear from them, even though I’M CALLING THEM! So many things to do! I feel good, I feel rested, I feel calm, and all of this together screams “it’s time Mari!” Off to be a busy bee……~Mental Mari

Stuck In My Box….

“DSM-IV Diagnostic Criteria for Agoraphobia. A) anxiety about being in places or situations from which escape might be difficult (or embarrassing) or in which help may not be available in the event of having an unexpected or situationally predisposed Panic Attack or panic-like symptoms.” - A.K.A “Stuck in a Box”

Quite frankly I should be happy to have a box. A place, my own spot in this world, that I can call my own. So I’m blessed…yet cursed at the same time. Somehow I managed to pay the bills, so I still have my place in this world. What an accomplishment ….right? Man I sound so unstable, how I can sound so unstable with ALL this medication, Dr. Appointments, and well sleeping that I’ve been doing. I mean is this as good as it gets? So back to life in my box. I’m stuck in here. Hellloooo WORLD, it’s me Mari! I’m stuck in this house! Nothing to be done about it except strategically try to conquer what plagues me and be appreciative that I have a box!

There was a time I didn’t have a box, not even someone else’s box. I remember sleeping on a wood floor with a half depleted airbed for a few nights. At least I had shelter…My parents wouldn’t even have me then. I had lost it all, with no family support, one of my former neighbors granted me her dining room floor. How could “Christians” as they love calling themselves, turn their back on their own daughter….I mean I know I’m off quite a bit, but I’ve never harmed anyone. I was in my 30’s at this point, just got laid off a job I was at for 3 years. I was losing everything slowly. My mind was the first thing to go, popping Xanax recreationaly all day every day. Maybe they didn’t want an addict in the house…who knows. Not like I’d be a drug head with my parents watching over me.

            Current situation is I’m currently trapped by these four walls, I don’t know if you’ve ever experienced life stuck in a box before, I seem to enjoy it, finding myself here day after day. It was maybe 2011 when it started getting really bad. I was informed by my therapist agoraphobia described my behavior. I thought it was simple, I’m bipolar and grouchy, don’t feel good most of the time, it’s easier to resort to these four walls. What happens when you can’t leave your spot? I’m there right about now, fearing the world out there with all it has to “offer.” Completely irrational to some….some of you understand the paralyzing fear that runs thru me as I step foot out the front door. There is good news however! I’ve made it out of my room! Hooray, I’m not completely debilitated! I plan things out, yes generally I stress so hard on how to not panic, and I end up panicking! Damnit, where are my “green pills” as I begin to shake and cry about “leaving the box.”

            I have a game plan, “plan” being the operative word. I go over the next day over and over in my head. Have to go out twice today I tell myself. Get my daughter to and from school, with various stops before, and after if I must. I pay bills online, I shop for both food and necessities online. Rarely do I need to do anything in the “outside world” other than what I am responsible as a mother to do. See how I’ve done that….I’ve created my own world. I’d die without Internet and the gas station on the corner! I’m thankful for the support I’ve found inside my world! I mean I’m the one that created it! I have few “friends” which are basically people that put up with my shit. I love each of them, mentally ill themselves or not. I’m pretty content here in “my world” as day after day passes me by. Some people don’t understand with their off the cuff remarks like  “you’re wasting away”, or my favorite, “get out and get some sunshine.” If they only knew how hard that really is for me… agoraphobia sucks! It’s not that I don’t want to be included….meantime I’m over here…stuck in my box, and I’m o.k. with that! ~ Mental Mari

           

What Others Must Think…

            I can’t pull it together. I was flying so high for so long, I’m completely exhausted coming down. My body hurts people! I feel like I’ve been beat up with a club! I see that you are out there, following along as I’m scraping thou life with mental illness. I have my daughter motivated to return to some of her extracurricular, while I remain in my pajamas at home, alone with my pup Raco. He snoozes all day leaving me to worry, and re-worry about my latest issue in life. Currently worrying about buying a new car. I don’t know anything about buying a new car, but I know I need one.

            Ugh I can’t believe it…..Its nap time at 10AM. I’m so tired, my body aches. I didn’t sleep much last night which adds to my current state of exhaustion. I’ll be back…need to charge the battery extra early today…maybe I’ll feel like coming back later today?? ~ Mental Mari

The Cards Were Dealt….

          So we managed to get an urgent referral which got us an appointment with Psych for my daughter. So my 16 year old and I are sitting, waiting for her first psych appointment. Something is wrong. Her panic & Anxiety is at an all-time high, having them almost daily, as I watch her reach for her bottle of anxiety medicine, and empty one into her hand. I hate seeing that! I hate seeing her grab that bottle, and shake medication into her hand. Yes, it’s going to completely head off a potential level ten panic attack however watching her dump that little white pill into her hand as the bottle shakes holding the other. Ugh, if she would just use the damn tools they have taught her during countless hours with her psychologist.

            So we sit here, is this the waiting room of an adolescent psychiatrist facility. I’m sending good vibes, prayers up, anything I can think of waiting in that waiting room. I’m praying to whoever can hear my head screaming….not Bipolar, please not Bipolar. My daughter is very much so expecting a Bipolar Diagnosis, why because we had prepared her for that label. Bipolar, and Chronic Depression plagues both on my side, and on her father’s side of the family. These are the cards she was dealt…

            We are finally escorted back to a room with a psychiatrist three times the height of my mini-me. I’m uncomfortable, my daughter is copping major attitude, as I watch her sink down into her chair. I was ready! Completely ready for some answers as to what in the world is causing the mental health problems she has been having, and that has recently started running her life.

We sat down the night before. I knew she was going to remain silent, she does with all unfamiliar people. We worked on note cards the night before, previous medications, results and side effects. We counted the hours of broken sleep she gets nightly. Working our way to the big question, are you currently suicidal? These were the questions I knew they would be asking, and I figured I’d head off some of the uncomfortable questions with these note cards. Some psychiatrists are great communications, and can easily ask these invasive questions without making you feel completely crazy. I recommend always sitting down and writing out things like: questions, concerns, reactions to medications, anything you may forget during your allotted time.

            So we have followed this giant of a man back to his office, here we go I thought. Lay down the news so we can just move forward! I’m mentally exhausted as question, after question pops out of his mouth. They had a mutual love of Star Wars, so she warmed up slightly. In the end she was perfect, she wasn’t broken. I could breathe again! My daughter looked relieved, even though she was highly resistant to his recommendations that she clean up sleeping habits. Panic & Anxiety Disorder, I can totally help with that! Hell I’ve been dealing with that for years! She looked relieved… she was aware that she’s completely normal, especially for a hormonal teenager. 

I feel like I could breathe again as we high five in the elevator. We were both giddy, and excited, completely manageable (just like many mental illnesses). One minute I feel like I’m playing Russian roulette with a gun, unable to breathe, now I’m laughing uncontrollably in an elevator with my daughter. Time to be proactive with “cleaning up her bad habits”, and we should see some great improvement! One of her biggest problem, so no electronics two hours before bed…well were going to work on that. Together with “learning tools” with her psychologist I am confidant she will be completely beat the “crippling effect” she has now.

Not sure how to end this, I know a lot of people are not as fortunate as we were, believe me as a person who suffered as a child, I understand. What I can say is be observant, if something is plaguing your child, please make that appointment, get advice, don’t battle mental illness alone, but most of all be confidant in your diagnosis, you’re not alone out there!                                                   ~ Manic Mari

Mommy Madness

       

I think all mentally ill worry about passing down their mental illness to their child (ren). All that you’ve been through, the psychiatrist appointments, therapy, the blood draws, and my favorite side effects. I do believe there is a higher power out there that I communicate with. I spent countless hours thinking, begging, and praying that my mental illness wouldn’t plague my daughter. Please, don’t let her suffer I prayed from the time I got pregnant….until things started going haywire years later. The answer to my request was denied. My daughter was handed a loaded gun, not literally, but mental illness runs throughout both my side, and her biological father’s side. It was almost like it was predetermined.

            I’ve been through a lot in my life, I’ve suffered from Bipolar for the better part of my life. My child was not spared this ill fate of having mental illness. Now I am not saying mental illness will always cripple you. I know a lot of very productive people leading productive lives while fighting mental illness. However it’s always there, always lurking in the background waiting to rear its ugly head. This is what I tell my daughter, you have to fight it, you have to be strong, use the tools you’ve learned, and take your medicine. Something that can be foreign to a teenager, even one not battling mental illness.

            She started showing signs of mental illness in 7^th grade, “no way” I thought. She’s too young, I’ve never abused her, she has friends, and after school activities. She’s was making straight A’s with a couple B’s here and there, but I could see her falling apart in front of me. NO! Not my child, please spare her Id beg in my head as I picked her up early on a daily occurrence. She missed so much school that year it became obvious to me we had to be proactive to beat whatever was plaguing her. What do you do when you’re seeing signs of your child going through mental illness? You make that appointment and let the professionals point you in the right direction.

            Panic & Anxiety Disorder was her first official title. Her first “label” to wear. We barely made it through then next two years. We did talk therapy for a year, this is where she gained the “tools” she needed to “get through a day”. However when it escalates to what we call Level 10, tools go right out the window, and she’s sucked into that alternative universe where she can’t breathe, she’s crying hysterically, mumbling things that make no sense, shaking, and eventually exhausted. Panic attacks can last for minutes if caught and “tools”, such as deep breathing, and awareness can help make it less severe. Unfortunately she was having these attacks at school, and all I knew was I had to get to her. Speeding down the side streets, and running into the school, sometimes they had passed, other times shed fall to pieces as I grab and hold her tight. Exhausted we head home where shed collapse in the bed. Mental illness can be completely exhausting.

            Entering high school all I could do was hold my breath. I knew it was going to be an extreme change, and I honestly didn’t know if she could handle a school so big. I considered homeschooling, but working with her psychologist we submitted accommodations to the school. All were granted, and there was a better plan in the works, designed to get her through her day. The next two years were easier for her to escape for her. She soon became resistant to therapy, and refused to go. Sitting there in silence with her psychologist watching the clock tick down. Talk about frustrating. Talk about not knowing what to do as a parent. Should I home school her, should I let her fight it out? She was miserable, and there I was picking her up early day after day. We did this for the next two years. My daughter and I developed a code, a rating scale for her panic and anxiety. Level 3 was uncomfortable, level 5 was it’s coming, get me out of here, all the way up to level 10. She began hitting level 10 often. More often than I’d ever admit out loud. She was out of control, exhausted, and confused as to why she had these panic attacks. It was getting worse, day after day level 10 plagued her.

            She refused talk therapy, even trying a new psychologist. Where are my options? I felt like I was in the trenches with her, and we were going to fight this together! The only logical next move was find a good doctor, and get evaluated. The wait for adolescent psychiatry was 6-8 months in our area. Our PCM started her on something to curve her panic, and said it was obvious she needed antidepressants. She was overly emotional, head down, no eye contact, her mannerisms were screaming help me! The antidepressants were obviously needed, great another label for her to wear.

            Currently we are not there yet! She is not “fixed” all these years later. There is no “fixing” as my blog will tell you, but there are ways to cope in order to make life bearable. Identify your triggers, my daughters for instance doesn’t do well with noisy places, and rambunctious classrooms. She eventually gave in and has gone back to talk therapy, and is on medication. A fate I truly wish I could change.

            Be supportive, watch for signs and symptoms, help avoid triggers, and try to let your child adapt however they need to in order to make it through a school day. Speaking to the parents out there that are trying to keep your heads above water. It will get easier, try different approaches, and work with medical professionals, the school district, get family support, and let your child know they are not alone!  After the last 24 hours my child has been on a roller coaster. Not sure where all of this came from, but I hope it helps someone!   ~Mental Mari

Mother Daughter Tendencies…

             I knew there was a problem as soon as I got the text, Are you hear yet? Oh boy, that’s code for she had a bad day. Therefore we now forget about every fucked up thing that I’m going thru and concentrate 100% on my daughter’s world. I was waiting for this collapse. She hasn’t seen her therapist in weeks due to my “malfunction” of my car. I tried to head it off last week when the stress started showing in her behavior. Still waiting on an appointment, her counselor is amazing, however very hard to get into.

            So we wait, the anxiety takes her over sometimes, she forgets all the tools she’s been taught, and were hitting level 10 panic attacks almost daily. School. What school! I see the lamenting look as she pours a pill into her hand. I can see what she’s thinking. “Why, Am I going to end up like my mother who depends on her meds?” She doesn’t have to say it, I can see it on her face. She’s in slug mode taking more of her anxiety medication than normal, slug status.

            As of last night she quit two, possibly three extracurricular activities, tore her room down from top to bottom, then cried because she wrecked her “haven”. She’s all over the map. Much like her trying to keep it “under control” mother. Being a single mom isn’t easy. Being a single mom with mental illness is harder. But NOTHING is harder than watching your child suffer with mental illness. All my issues have gone wayside, she’s hurting…I don’t know how to fix her! I know rationally that I don’t hold the power to “fix” her, but damnit I want to.

            OK signing out for a little time with my mini-me! ~Mental Mari

Orange Jump Suits and Sausage Feet

              Ironic isn’t it that a few days ago I was wearing the same garb as this fellow walking out of his appointment with “The Good Doc”. Just a few days ago that was me. As I looked towards this inmate in his bright orange jumpsuit.“I have something in common with” as the county Sheriff shuffled him to a chair. We had lot’s in common he and I, even though I doubt that crossed his mind when our eyes locked. No one wants to be stared at Mari, shit! I come back to reality as he proudly tells the Sheriff, “Nope, no medication changes.” He seemed happy, maybe to be “out” rather than “in”. But what I noticed was his ability to find humor in what I’d call worst case scenario. I also know that when you’re mentally ill often a smile doesn’t come easy, neither does a laugh. He’s on the right path I thought to myself as The Good Doc opened the door to retrieve me.

            “Doc, we’ve got to do something about this.” As I kick off yes, my house shoes and followed her behind her desk. “I’ve got sausage feet, and I don’t know why, but I can’t wear shoes. So, fix me?” As we both kinda giggled at me currently standing barefoot in The Good Docs office. Something is causing me to retain water, hoping the 6 lbs I’ve gained is water weight!

 So here’s the point where I’m allowed to insert how I think I feel, and how I think I’m doing…that is before she nails me down with those all too specific questions she loves to run thru. I’m missing my afternoon recharge session so I’m continuously yawning as I explain I’m sleeping too much. I’m pretty much on lump status but you know what’s gone? The clouds of dust are settling, things are calmer now, I can see clearly. Thru heavy eyelids I see the complete picture and one by one see my fuck ups appear. I explained to her I had turned myself in and things were o.k. With a worried look, and a matter of fact tone she asks “How long was I in there?” Not as long as the poor guy in the lobby I thought as I watched her lowering the dosages of my “chill pill” and anti psychotic. At first I went to debate the decrease, than I remember normalcy, not stoned Mari….

So that’s the great news! That and the fact I’ve put on 6lbs since I started this new anti psychotic 12 day ago. My small already pudgy stature does not need another pound added as I sit her inhaling my Fanta. Gotta get moving, but how when I feel like I’m dragging a bag of bricks around with me. Somethings got to give…..I’m half way back to normalcy when I get another bag of bricks dumped on me…I didn’t give The Good Doc that high five today…mostly because I had no battery power left, no nap makes for an irritated gal! I managed to turn and look at her as we walked out of her office. “Thanks for pulling me out of the clouds doc.” That’s all that came out with all of the emotions I felt at that moment… “You look better Mari, you look better” she said. 

Coming Down.…

            Well hello there everyone, I can see that you’re out there. Not quite sure why, unless you like watching a train going 100 mph out of control! Train wreck, that’s about where I am now! After marching in and out of The Good Doc (my psychiatrist) office I’m guessing 5 time in the last two months. I’m finally coming down, feels fast, and a little scary, however a clear thought or two has passed thru my usually manic brain.

            I got my reminder call last night, appointment with The Good Doc at 1:30PM today. Great, another appointment, another risk driving….did I mention that’s my nap time? Some days I wish I had the support my friends have. Someone that cares how they feel enough to be proactive in their treatment. I never let anyone get that close to me I guess. I stay strong for my child. I’m all she has, so when my world is falling apart I have to create some sort of normalcy in hers.

            The last few weeks have been a world wind of a long lasting nightmare! I’ve made bad choices, and have suffered repercussions for my manic behavior. Ugh, why Mari, why are you always digging yourself out of trenches, ones I dug for myself. I’m sane now folks, HA! I’m not gravitating towards the dark side today, but I’m having a hard time seeing the damn light. I feel like I wake up day after day not knowing the person that’s going to arise. Will I have clarity today? Or another day of utter confusion with big decisions to be made? Today looks like a good day, I’m sending out good vibes today, in hopes some come find me. At least let me make good driving decisions. Is that too much to ask of myself?

            I walked into “The Good Docs” office maybe 2 weeks ago? Hell, who can keep up with dates, and times when you’re too manic to figure out what day it is in the first place. I had enough, my adjustments weren’t doing shit. I always hate messing with my cocktail of psych meds, but something had to give. Looked like one of my mood stabilizers’ was overpowering my anti-psychotic. (Now I’m not big on brand name dropping. Mostly because I know what works for me, may not work for you, remember my cocktail, not yours.) Time to change up the regimen, see if it worked.

Well it worked! The spiraling has stopped, and I’m slowly sliding down, not too far down. Not yet! Did I mention I’m eating my own self out of house and home! I can’t stop! Here comes another 30lbs to add onto my already obese stature. Great, trade my sanity for vanity that’s what it comes down to for me. I can remember 7 years ago the same process with the last anti psychotic, the water retention, nausea, the vomiting, along with endless hours of sleeping. It’s all back in full effect, I’m officially in slug mode.

Unfortunately there is a trade off to my sanity, psych drugs are both my savior, and my mortal enemy. The side effects are grueling I know, I’ve been on and off of them for at least the last 17 years. It’s not pretty, I’ve resorted to the living room as home base. I’m finally not so jittery that I can’t sit still. No, now I’m on lump status as day after day slides by, and reality comes back. All the messes I need to clean up. I want to give The Good Doc a big high-five when I see her today, if I had the energy that is. She’s brought me down from flying in the skies, to at least being able to have a rationale thought. Maybe this tweaking will work, maybe it’s too much. I can’t decide, I’m just so happy I’m not swinging from the roof tops at the moment. ~Mental Mari

Reporting For Duty…Life At The Local PD

            Well, we all know I had to do it. Rather than ducking around corners, and peeping out my front door, may as well get it over with before I get arrested on their time, not mine. I had all my ducks in a row. My bestie went with me promising to meet the bondsman I had set up to spring me. As long as bail wasn’t over $800 I’d be able to bond out, and get home before my kid got home from school. All planned out huh?

            “Ah, I heard about you!” The officer said as he pated me down for whatever I’d be stupid enough to bring in with me. Prisoner treatment already…I have to say I was treated fair, the older cop took his time let, knowing I was dreading the cell. I don’t know if it’s an unspoken rule over at our local police department, but when he saw my meds he took a deep breathe in, “a crazy.” They tend to put you in your own cell when you bring in that many psych meds. “Your prepared I see” as he continued emptying my valuables on his damn desk. One pair of sunglasses, two gold bracelets, and a hair rubber band”…and my 8 scripts I brought with me, damn I just cleaned out that bag last night! So the entire process, property list, fingerprinting, mug shot. “What” I asked the officer as I went to fix my hair. He was laughing as I prepared to “take the last one”. I explained to him with my half paralyzed smile that my ex-husband would be getting a “ding” as soon as the charge posted. “Ah”, he says as he instructs me to turn to the right.

            I knew eventually it’d come, those four walls. It’s so cold in jail, I knew this so on a rather warm day, I was in a sweater, and warmest pants I could put on that morning. Still adjusting to my new antipsychotic I drifted in and out of sleep sitting there hour after hour. I’m not cut out for this shit! I told myself over and over again. “Why Mari, why are you back here yet again?” Cold, tired, and did I mention I filled an empty stomach with a full dose of my morning “cocktail”. Great just what they wanted a vomiting inmate. Finally I heard the heavy steps coming towards my door. ‘Please be me, please be me!” I had gone in early, so I could see the judge first thing in the morning. Finally! It was me! 5 hours had passed, felt longer with no idea of the time while I was in my box.

            So standing in front of a judge with no bra on embarrassing enough, now this stupid charge I thought in my head. All of this because I was driving against my psychiatrist orders, completely manic, and unable to concentrate on anything much less driving. So I hit a trailer, not really sure why the charge was so much, but a $3,000 bond was defiantly doable! Had the money waiting in the lobby, until…until he slid his hand over and did something I was not expecting. He gave me a Personal Recognizance Bond a.k.a. no bond payment, walk out of jail with the promise to go to my court date! I thought I ran out of PR Bonds long ago. I guess I had one left shocker.

            I was the only one in a full jailhouse that got that "P.R. Bond" that morning, a new cop on duty informed me. I was shocked, it wasn’t the fact that I was getting out, I figured there was a good chance my bondsman would keep me off the paddy wagon to County. I just know that I’ve received my fair share of P.R. Bonds and I figured my time was up when it came to walking out of jail without paying an arm and a leg. Lesson learned..again..ugh I hope it sticks this time. My local police department has pulled me in close to 6 times in the last 7 years. Minor violations that all add up to me looking irresponsible mostly.

          For now I’m out, with a heavy heart I went in and “took care of business.” Now my court date is looming over my head. I mean what do I tell the judge “I panicked, I’m not use to having my shit together so I took off?” I had no reason to leave that night. I had insurance to cover the accident, all my drivers license, tags and registration were valid, most of all I had no warrants out for me. I panicked. Have a headache now, I wonder why? Life adventures being mental.                                                        ~Mental Mari

Warrants, Warrants, and Another Mug Shot…

So I’m UP! I’ve been up for a month, and half now…doing… well…I’m being incredibly manic and irresponsible. Look, I’ve never said I have all the answers, and believe me I’ve pretty much never been an angel. Not that I can remember anyway. So the warrants have been issued, I’m due to turn myself in to our local police department, “leaving the scene of an accident.” Yup, I did that! I did that… and now well now I’ve been caught. Something that never crossed my mind once I pulled back into my driveway that night.

            I was outside of my house the next morning, my daughter waiting on carpool when the local police slowly pulled up to a dead stop in front of my home. The officer may as well have jumped out of his car he was so thrilled he had found my car, and the culprit who hit a parked trailer in the road…and of course completely manic, completely wacked out of my mind, I leave the scene of an accident. An accident I caused, with a nonmoving object! I freaked, never had much luck with the police so once I recovered from the airbag exploding in my face my mind said “run”!!

I couldn’t explain why to the overly excited police officer. I went over it in my mind over and over again. I have a valid driver’s license, my tags and insurance were current. I wasn’t intoxicated, not really caring I hadn’t taken my nightly “cocktail of psych meds”.  Most of all for once in my life I had no WARRANTS!! (I’ve had warrants damn near since I was 15 years old.) First charge was Evading Arrest at 15 years of age. Here I sit at 37, 22 years later thinking to myself…why? 

            So against my psychiatrists “orders” yes she even put it in my chart at my previous visit. NO DRIVING for 4 weeks. Boy did I take those orders well. Here I sit at my home with a wrecked car, nearly totaled, liability allows for no new car for me. I’m currently peeping out my front door paranoid they are going to come knocking…looking for Ms. Mental Mari….again. Again I’m fucked, to be completely honest I’ve been on probation for my last charge. Yes, probation free for a couple months, with more probation looming over my head.

Again, why, well being completely wacked out of my head for one. Not eating, not sleeping, taking my psych meds when convenient, not my usual ridged routine. I can’t think straight, I blew a good $1,000 this week, leaving me damn near broke again. Not enough money in the bank to post bail! So here I am peeping out the door, just looking…waiting. I have a plan Ill “turn myself in” later this week. When I have money in the bank to post bail at least.

            Year after year, charge after charge. Needless to say I have some extremely bad judgement. One day a judge is going to get “sick of my shit”, and my little in and out stops at county are going to be a permanent stay. Why do I have to be so damn crazy? Why can’t I just be leveled off, why can’t I just stay OUT of jail! Ok people I’m out, I’m going to go settle my brain, wrap my head around “turning myself in.” ~Mental Mari

Manic Mari, and my adventures in driving COMPLETELY MANIC! I am blessed I hit an "unattended vehicle" (geeze), most of all that I'm o.k.! Driving when you can't pay attention to the road, well this is what your outcome could be...

Screaming From the Roof Tops...

            For those of you who follow my blog, you know that I completely admit that my life with Bipolar I with Mixed Episodes can feel like a runaway train…more like train wreck.  I completely admit that after decades of being treated for my poly-diagnosis, I have times when I am completely out of control. Hello, my name is Mental Mari, and I feel completely crazy at times.

            So I’ve done it again, single handily fucked my world up. Finances are screwed, there’s holes in the walls from me kicking them, I totaled my car the last night, and my daughter informed me tonight that I’ve been extremely rude. Yup, now my stress level is through the roof. I’m manic, and I can’t make it stop! I’ve been on this upswing for close to a month and a half now. Thankful I have ambition and determination to start a blog, while waiting to cycle down into the depth of chronic depression. I’ve been in three times in a month to see my physiatrist. The adjustments aren’t working, my crazy side is showing. “Yeah my mom tells me, there’s something off.” Thanks mom, I hadn’t noticed.

            Normally my blogs have some sort of solution, something to educate, or just enjoy. Geeze, I’m going to sound like a Oh and did I mention I turned it into a hit and run? Yes, I fled, I know your saying, why? I was in no way intoxicated, everything was legal, and legit, but I panicked. I ran. Now I sit here with a totaled car, and two misdemeanor charges for fleeing a scene of the accident, have to go to jail again, new mug shot…great, my finances are wrecked, everyone is sick of my bullshit, so I’m at cold shoulder status with my family. Black sheep status. If they only knew, if they could just understand I am completely out of character right now.

            I’m shouting as loud as I can for someone, anyone to please help me! I’m hearing crickets people…Maybe the doc can get it right Monday. I have no idea for a game plan, hell my brain feels like scrambled eggs right now. I don’t even know how these words come out of me, but I’m glad they do. If just one person understands than all of these words have purpose. Oh yeah, we were talking about a game plan. For Monday. First my psych appointment, then seeing my counselor. Maybe I’ll feel better, my counselor usually get a smile out of me no matter how high or low I’m flying. Fuck it, this is a wrap, all I can think about are the consequences I’m about to face….yet again. I can’t sit still, I’m losing concentration, time to move on to the day. Good day to you all….till next time!                                                                                                                      ~Mental Mari

Ugh My Car...

                I'm here, sore, bruised, with a completely mangled car! Thankful yet overwhelmed.  Call who, my family, nah they wrote me off long ago. Another battle, why am I so stupid!? Follow doctors orders, ALL of them! ~Mental Mari

...And Then The Truth Comes Out...Defiant

           So as much as I want to stay on the straight and narrow side of maintaining my mental health, I continue to cycle in and out of depression, in and out of mania. I’ve been flying pretty high these last few weeks. Hence the birth of this blog, even two today people! I noticed it myself, which means it’s probably pretty bad. We adjusted my meds to slow me down a bit, but I had a reaction to the increase blowing my feet and legs up to where I couldn’t walk. Besides changing my entire “cocktail” I decided to ride the waves of mania out, and pray I don’t ruin my life! 4-weeks out is my next appointment. Just enough to let the rain pass and level out. Listen to your psychiatrist, something I wish I would have done. However when you have Superman Powers, who needs to listen…right, wrong! The last thing my psychiatrist told me was “No DRIVING”. From treating me all these years (9 to be exact) she knows how I tend to race down side streets at 80 mph, and play with the radio way too much, and am completely wreck less behind the wheel.

            Here I sit with a totaled car, wishing I wasn’t so damn defiant!! She told me, no driving, it’s even written in my records, no driving. What do I do? Continue to put the petal to the floorboard, and smile as I race like a mad woman up and down the streets. Over 100 mph in my Mustang, flying down the highway to an appointment I’m not even late for. Don’t drive, slow down, all of which a things that ring in my head as I quickly step on the gas. Who is she to tell me I can’t drive, who’s to say I’m not “sane”. Well a totaled car does! 

            I hit a parked trailer in a residential neighborhood head on at 35 mph. Yup, I did that, just last night, great! Bad decision making is pretty common when you’re in a manic state. Hell I’m manic right now, scrambling to figure out how I’m going to get around, how my daughter will get to her activities, her counseling, and her psych appointments. Great! Mother of the year award for this girl! I’m completely still manic as I sit here rambling on….Too late to say put away the keys! In the last month, I’ve gone on a $1500.00 shopping spree, with what money, well rent money of course! I’ve totaled my beloved car, and here I sit without a clear thought in my head. All I can think about is “what am I going to do?” I’m broke, I live in a rural area, with little to no public transportation, the school bus doesn’t even reach us…ugh how am I going to do…well next time maybe FOLLOW DOCTORS ORDERS! Geeze you would think a decade after I received my Bipolar I diagnosis I’d get my shit together!

Bottom line is I need to listen, and follow directions as my psychiatrist has given them to me. I wouldn’t be sitting here trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do! Is this normal, am I always going to cycle? Well, that has been my norm… even with medication management, and talk therapy I still can swing dangerously high, and low. Last night was obviously a high, I wasn’t speeding, but I had no ability to focus or concentrate on driving! Should not have be driving, but I did, now I pay the repercussions…. Life being manic, isn’t it fun, undoing all that you manage to do when you’re flying high. Moral of this story, DON’T BE DEFIANT!! Listen to your psychiatrist, and follow their orders, it’s not all about taking your meds, its more about leading a productive, safe lifestyle! ~Mental Mari Yes, I was blessed, the air bags literally saved my life...thankful for sure!

I'm Here..I'm Alive...I See Your Support

I see all of you...encouragement my words aren't falling on deaf ears! Thank you for making me feeling validated! ~Mental Mari

Poly-Want Label… My Life with a Poly Mental Diagnosis…..

          

Day 3: I've managed to show up 3 whole days in a row! Hi everyone, it's Mental Mari, and this is PART of my story....

            Nobody told me I could be mentally ill times 3! Ugh as if one wasn’t hard enough! Now I carry 3 “labels.” Ones that may sound common, but when you roll them up, and tie a nice bow around them all, what you have is an extremely mentally ill person.

So what are you? I know... I know everyone want to know. Many of you may have dual, possibly poly mental illness diagnosis like me. Let me first say the spectrum of mental illness is far, and wide. You could be diagnosed as I was with Bipolar… but which kind? I try to stick as closely to the DSMV Book as possible. Believe me I bug my psychologist all the time to look up things for me, as my book and blog come flowing out. So tell me you say…o.k. here we go Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome (PTSD), Bipolar I w/ Mixed Episodes, and Agoraphobia.... Well there they are folks, there are the labels I carry? I’m wondering right now what yours are? Could we be battling the same demons? Most likely in one way or another. So here’s how I deal, the tricks of the trade if you will. How to function in life (with medication), and be productive as it goes by day after day.

            I was diagnosed with PTSD in 2004 by a counselor, while stationed in Germany. I was off my rocker BIG time at that point. Not knowing what I know now, I yo-yoed on and off medication, and practiced regressive memory therapy. It was hard, I identified stressors that impacted my life so bad I had blocked most of it out. I went, I participated appointment after appointment, until I was given a PTSD diagnosis from my counselor, and confirmed by my primary physician. It sucked. Regressive therapy is hard, sometimes recalling too much…. Stuff I wanted buried down deep inside me. I finally had enough, and stopped going. I was an emotional wreck thinking, and reliving horrible experiences I had blocked out. Not the right kind of therapy, not the right time. I deal with my PTSD today, that’s about all you can do. I’ve adapted things in my lifestyle to keep those triggers away. Mostly works until I lose it kick a hole in my wall, flashing back to getting thrown thru a wall. Got to avoid those triggers, have to stay sane!

            Bipolar I with Mixed Episodes came not too far after the PTSD. I thought surely one, as I bounced on and off antidepressants for almost a year. I wasn’t getting better, I was getting worse. My "friend psychosis" came back. Id stand for hours at my bay window, waiting on the Military Police to pick me up. Completely irrational, but the voices were there, they told me they were coming, and I felt it to my core that I was right.

           I was getting so bad my then husband was in Iraq, he had heard I was losing it. He called “Go Home Mari” aka "you’re not fucking up my career." So I did, this was 2005, I was desperate for help. I returned to California and made an appointment with a psychiatrist, something that had never occurred me to do. He had me nailed down in my Psych Evaluation. In the end, looking at my symptoms, all my ups all to fall down, my sleep, what we had tried before….yup, most defiantly Bipolar I with Mixed Episodes. Medication was started that night…we can talk later about how much fun psych meds are to go on and off of. I started noticing a difference by the time I returned to the psychiatrist I saw, I felt better. So avoid your triggers again! Take your meds, and every day, on time! Keep your appointments, be honest with your psychiatrist, and SLEEP! I can’t express how important sleep is when you have any form of mental illness.

            Oh one more, I know I’ll make it short. It explains itself anyway…Agoraphobia. Also known as the "fuck, I cannot leave this place!" I’m here, I’m safe, I know what’s going on, and I can see all four walls. Yup, Agoraphobia plagues me more than ANY of my labels do. It’s a bitch to be honest. I’m scared…plain and simple, petrified of the world outside my front door. I’ve tried, and I can’t seem to put my finger on when it began, sometime in 2006. I noticed the paranoia first, “everyone is looking at me” I’d tell my therapist. I’d drag myself into the real world to go to these appointments. I finally ended those sessions due to “not being able to get out”. Now what he fuck does that mean…I know. It means if I’m not comfortable with leaving my house, a level-ten panic attack on the way. Shaking, crying, and collapsing on the floor unable to get air. That’s what leaving my house looks like for me.

Now, I have my days, today is not one of them, when I’m able to get around. I usually feel it right away…pajama day I tell myself …nope, no shower needed today. Geeze right. So how do you beat it? I do not have the answer to that one. I stay happy as a lark, as ridiculous as it sounds, in my house where I am safe! I make myself go out every day, even if to sit on the back porch. Strive to make it out of the house, although I completely understand if you can't!  ~Mental Mari

Government vs Private vs State Facilities…

So sticky topic…where is the best care? Well I guess that all depends on your psychiatrist, and whether you’re considered a person, or a number. Good answer right? I’ve seen every side of the coin. My care while under the military was the worst, hands down. State run facilities can be scary to say the least, but once again depending on your psychiatrist could be a diamond in the rough. Private Doctors are great for…well in my case it has yet to be seen what they are good for! Unfortunately there is rarely a choice for many mentally ill people. If you’re not suicidal, or homicide you’re going to fall wayside, therefore just getting medication management can be frustrating.

            I was living in Germany over a decade ago when my Bipolar I with Mixed Episodes started showing. With my then husband away at war, and a two year old to take care of I desperately needed to be sane! I was never able to get a proper diagnosis from the military side. Instead my PCM flung me on, and off antidepressants that fueled my undiagnosed Bipolar. I must have tried twelve antidepressants, before he was ready to commit me to the Psych Ward in Germany. I clearly recall the phone call in which my then husband sent me packing, “Go home April.” Word was getting around I was falling apart. He was angry and embarrassed. Who wants a crazy wife anyway? So, off my daughter and I flew to a private doctor in the States. I remember going back to Germany, I had been diagnosed, and was on medications to help keep the bipolar in control. I remember calling my PCM, they were use to me calling for him at the clinic I was assigned to. He was blown away to say the least, after months of being in his care I FINALLY was referred to psychiatry in Germany. I drove an hour and half to see a matter of fact psychiatrist with the Army. He immediately wanted to change up my medicine. Something none of us want! I refused, wanted to stay on my regiment. Shortly thereafter I returned to the states, back to private doctors.

            My opinion on Private Psychiatrists are one: they can be extremely expensive if you have no insurance, and are paying cash. Two: They tend to be booked up for 30-45 days at a time. If you need an appointment for just an adjustment, you could be waiting for a cancellation. Now with all of that being said I have seen one, only once, for my diagnosis that I really liked. Now I’ve seen a handful of private psychiatrists (probably 7) since I was originally diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I can’t say I’ve cared for them all. They do allot a good hour for your visit, best believe you’ll be billed for it too. I’m defiantly not saying all of them are bad, depends on the clinic, doctors, and staff. If you find the right doctor, private or not, stick with them!

            Now let’s look at the state-run facilities, I mentioned they can be scary. Let’s add to that busy, dreary, long waits, oh and did I mention you’ll most likely be a number at this point. I’ve been in two states for care, both times I was a patient of State run facilities. A number, yes most defiantly, great medication management, no way. Seems like a great place to go when your “showing your crazy”, and you have no insurance, and generally no money. Co-pays are small to non-existent, but the paperwork is never ending. Get ready to be evaluated every time you have a visit, by at least three people asking you the same questions over and over. I’ve had horrible experiences as a patient at one state run program in Texas, I believe they were trying to completely zombify me, I ended up in a State run Mental Hospital (yes, the Psych ward) due to over medicating. My crazy was showing, locked away in a mental ward was the scariest thing that has ever happened to me. They tried to add more medicine to my “cocktail”, but I refused. I waited out my 72 hour suicide hold, and I was out!

            California was worse, I couldn’t wait for my appointment at the State facility there. My previous clinic gave me the standard 3 month supply of my medications. I still was on the wait list three months later, waiting to be in processed! Not even to see a psychiatrist. I remember looking for parking at the mental health facility in downtown Los Angeles. I couldn’t believe I had run out of medication….so here I was among all types of people. I waited the entire day, not moving for fear of losing my number in line. At the end of the day I was able to see a psychiatrist who was completely skeptical, especially because I had no medical records. I explained “my cocktail” and my “labels”. I was granted all my medications, except one. The one that controls my hallucinations, paranoia, and anger….great. I was told it was a popular “street drug” so he wasn’t going to provide that one. I was livid to say the least. All I needed was medication management and here is a Doctor I had never, and would never see again takes me off a major psych medicine cold turkey! Ha!

            Back to Texas I went. The care I received in California was less than par…never did see another doctor. Time to find someone dependable that could management mental health. It was a success! I’ve been with the same psychiatrist for the last nine years. I’m leveled out. Still ride the waves of my disorders, but I maintain, and lead a productive life! I encourage you to find your own psychiatrist, however you afford it, I have insurance but still see a psychiatrist at a small State funded Clinic. Best care I’ve ever received! Goes to show you never know where you’re going to find a psychiatrist that meets your needs! ~Mental Mari