Ativan, Turkey and Black Friday

I had to leave work early due to stomach issues.  I don't quite know where they came from.  Is it a bug?  Is it effects from my flu shot last week?  Is it Ativan withdrawal?  Could most definitely be the Ativan withdrawal.  I'm trying not to rely on an addicting benzo daily to get me by.  But I've been on it for four years.  I got off of it for a bit, experienced flu-like symptoms during withdrawal and survived it, but ended up BACK on it after a terrible time trying a new drug on the market over the summer.  Ugh.  Will it ever end?

I'm trying some essential oils, too.  We shall see.

I didn't overeat on Thanksgiving yesterday.  So it can't be that.

Nerves?  Have nerves taken me over again?  I surely hope not.  I've been sleeping fairly well and I have LOADS of experience working holiday retail.

Whatevs.  I left work early on Black Friday and came home, put on my jammies and have been resting.  Hopefully this subsides by the morning?  Otherwise I'm in for a hellish few days at work.  Because I can't call off on our busiest days of the year.  God, help me!  Or maybe I just need to take the damn Ativan again.  Ugh.

I am trying to look forward to things.  The holidays always blur by but I'm trying so hard to enjoy them this year.  My brother is arriving next weekend.  I have another concert in a few weeks, which should bring a smile on my face to see one of my favorite musicians LIVE IN PERSON once again.  As long as I can hide out and dodge the chitter-chatter.  Man, I still don't understand the chitter-chatter.  Will I ever know?

I am gearing up for a whirlwind season.  I pray the Good Stuff surrounds me, and that people exhibit kindness and joy, and that each day is comfortably manageable.  I pray that nobody screams at me and that the spirit of the season touches more people than ever before.

Whew.  Here we go.

Oh the mundane

Wake up.  Take pills.  Bathe.  Work.  Eat. Take more pills.  Go to sleep.  Start over.

If only I could figure out a way to be content with life.  I put up my Christmas tree today.  As I was hanging the garland and stringing the lights, I had this weird time warp sensation.  I was in total disbelief that a whole year has passed since I put up the Christmas decorations.  Day in, day out.  Month in, month out.  Year in, year out.  Decade in, decade out.

I need to travel again.  Comment puis-je le faire?  Is that even proper French?  

Anxiously awaiting my new passport...

Living, breathing case studies

So I try my best not to eat, sleep and breathe all this mental illness stuff.  But it's like it haunts a person, particularly when you are not able to discuss it openly in most places.  I take my medications, I check in regularly with different professionals and support groups, but I must hide my illness and go about my daily life as normally as possible.  It's like living a double life.

I love that more people are becoming more vocal about their struggles.  The more people that come forward with their mental health struggles the more compassionate society can be.  It takes a lot of courage to speak up about these experiences, but at the same time, what a relief it could all be!

The self-doubt I feel daily that I'm inferior and ill and worthless because of struggles with bipolar eats away at me.  My past haunts me.  Former colleagues have turned their back on me and my connections that could lead me to a new job or new career are thwarted by a past that has included several medical leaves of absence from several jobs.  And GOSSIP!  Jesus, the GOSSIP stabs the core of a person's sense of worth!  I am no longer taken seriously by them, and my future is dimmed because of their judgments.  Do you understand how a mental illness past can lead to deeper depression?

It is my hope, my prayer that more understanding comes with more people opening up about these struggles.  Support groups show me that I'm not alone, and I am grateful for them.  But I still have a long way to go before I feel confidence to participate the way I'd like to.

I am grateful, however, for the few friends who have stood by me in good times and bad.  The friends who do not judge or gossip or whisper about me.  The friends who bring me joy.  I'm lucky to have at least a few of those.

I was interested to hear I was not the only one who went through the hell of diagnosis.
http://www.nola.com/entertainment/baton-rouge/index.ssf/2014/11/darrell_hammond_opens_up_about.html

Dreams for an insomniac

So one of the unfortunate aspects of bipolar sometimes is sleepless nights.  I think I read some study correlating the bipolar mind with migratory birds who go without sleep for days.  It's not good.  I'm getting older and I need that rest.  One night of no sleep results in poor digestion the entire next day and if it continues onto two, three, four nights there is a potential for mania to take over.

I have a lot stewing in my mind and it just seems like it's not ready for sleep.  I'm not feeling too keen on sharing the details but it suffices to say I'm Stressed. And no me gusta stress.

I want to hideaway and work in a factory or something doing production work where my immediate peers are task-oriented, team players and efficient.  I want to clock out and roll down the brontosaurus neck and go off to enjoy an enriching life with an ideal group of friends and loved ones.  Instead I constantly feel like I have to blow off steam.  The stress of working in and with the public has me down.  I'm walking on eggshells.

I wish I could sleep tonight.  My old soul needs its rest.  I need proper rejuvenating each night.