I don’t write often enough in my blog. I seem to be suffering from a brain that is finding it hard to formulate words and ideas as of late. Every day that I wake up I feel like I have nothing to say to anyone. So, I sit and stare a lot or I repeat the same motions over and over and over. For instance, I’ll check my email to see if anything new has arrived. I don’t get overly excited as if I am being OCD about it I just have nothing better to do within my little prison. You do know I live in somewhat of a prison, don’t you? I could say it’s my mind which does act like a prison on bad days but I’m referring to my life as I am living it now. I like to consider it a chapter in book. This chapter is very long, in fact it may even be considered a section of a book of life. I don’t know when it will end nor how it will end nor am I writing my life. (although I argue with that thought on occasion because in fact I could be writing it partially)
I used to be self-sufficient. I was a landlord and owned a two-family home for 1o years. I owned my own commercial cleaning business for ten years too. I held it all together and worked very hard each day. I would feed off of my manic episodes having no idea that I was bipolar just thinking I had lots of energy and I made good use of it. I was diagnosed with depression since I was 13 and was considered a troubled child and even left school but I was trying to make something of myself on my own with my husband. Throughout those years of hard work I always considered myself blessed and lucky regardless of the heartache that came (my brother died when I was 23 / he was only 32) ; my husband got electrocuted at work and was considered saved and a rarity not to have been killed even though the electricity tore through his arms. I also started to develop more of the symptoms of being out of control. I had been a self-harmer since teen years and that got worse. Every few years I would cut myself and require stitches. My primary doctor gave me an anti-depressant figuring it was all just depression and it caused full-blown mania. I was driving through red lights, staying awake night after night, scaring people at my job, and running around my neighborhood. I finally checked myself into the hospital because something deep inside me knew that I was teetering too close to the danger zone and I would hurt someone and I can only thank God for leading me to the right place. I was admitted and removed from the antidepressants and set up with a psychiatrist who diagnosed me with bipolar disorder after discussing all the symptoms I had exhibited. For the first time I felt as if someone was listening and was finally hearing me. For years it seemed no one had been. Previous doctors always dismissed what I had to say.
So, that was my beginning. My diagnosis. I was 30 at the time and I am 48 now. Back then I tried a few different drugs, Lithium, is always the first one. Yuck, hated it. Wouldn’t use it. But I used Depakote and have been on that for 18 years, give or take some time. I’ve gone through my rebellious stages of not taking my pills and when I go off of Depakote I get seizures. But I had these seizures before, Depakote just helps control them. So, I stick with that. Also, Depakote controlled my urges to cut myself. It was the only thing to work for me. I never understood where those urges came from either. But that pill made it stop. The only time since then that I’ve self-harmed is when I was drinking and started taking Ativan after my husband died and I was on a bad, bad, downward spiral. Otherwise nothing.
I’m having a hard time figuring where I’m going with this. That’s what’s wrong with my brain now. I stop and my brain just quits on me as if it just wants to float on the clear blue sea and not be bothered with anyone or anything. I can’t spend my life doing nothing. That’s what bothers me the most here. I’m stuck here until whenever. I can’t leave because of my Dad. No one else is here but me myself, and I. There’s my Dad but he can’t talk and make sense any more. Even the dog sleeps all day because he’s old. No wonder I look forward to the laundry. But I’ve already done the laundry, cooked the evening meal, done the dishes, made the beds, all of the stuff there is to do….so now I’m like a plane waiting for take off but there’s nowhere to go. AAAGGHH…….I’m tired of waiting.
Sorry for this stupid posting.