Friday, 30 March 2012

A Year and a Day

March 29th...that's the very first day I ever took an anti-depressant. I remember the little blue pill very clearly.I remember throwing up in the bathroom of the walk in clinic, I remember stoppin at the grocery store on the way home and picking up junk food so I could return home to Andrea, cry, and eat myself into being happy - it didn't work.

It's been a year and a day. 367 days (cause we had a leap year). I often wonder still if its been worth it. All the medications. I've lost so much time, chunks of my memory, money, self respect, self esteem, sex drive and so many other things. Who knows what I would be like if I hadn't started taking them. I worry what it's done to my body, to my brain. Have they affected my life span? I've come along way from the person I was 367 days ago, I know I have - but its hard to believe that I've been on medication for so long.


I finished the Emotional regulation thrapy group this week. Odd that my last day there was also on the anniversary of the start of my medication - a thought that was not lost on me yesterday. I had so hoped that by the end of my 14 weeks that, idk...not that I'd be cured but that I would feel more prepared than I do. The last group of graduates had some amazingly competent people - and I know I can't compare lives to them, but I wanted to be there. To have the know how, the strength to face everything without the constant resource or reminders of the things I am supposed to be trying.

I am glad I went, I do feel like I've benefited from it - but I didn't get what I wanted. I got something good, it was a positive experience - but it wasn't what I wanted.

Friday, 23 March 2012

A Weird Realization

I have been going down a slippery slope for the past week. I can feel my mood slipping. I am trying to do all the things that you are supposed to do - and I am doing a decent job - I hope it passes soon. But, that isn't what this is about...

During the past few days, I have had an urge to cut again - I had forgotten what that urge had felt like, how dark it feels. One night, I believe it was Monday, I had resisted the urge to cut and was taking a shower and shaving my legs. I shaved over top of my very scarred upper thigh...and realized...

...There once was a time where I couldn't shave over a large part of my leg because it was so cut up and raw. Now they are healed and merely a memory.

...There once was a time where I couldn't go an hour without thinking about cutting. Now I can't remember the last time I did.

...There once was a time when the hot water couldn't touch my leg without it searing and burning. Now, the water runs over my entire body without pain.

I have come a long way when it comes to cutting. I can't let myself forget that in my dark moments where I want to cut again. I like being able to shower without pain.

Though it will be quite some time before I can wear a bathing suit without being self conscious of it riding up, or changing in front of the kids or Andrea. Though I will mostly likely have constant scars on my leg - they are not real. They are the past.

And I hope they stay that way.

Monday, 19 March 2012

One Thing

It's not her fault - at all.

I was having a good day, considering it's Monday and most of my Mondays are bad because of the instability of the weekend. But it was going all right. I was being relatively productive at work, and looking forward to going home.

And then.

Andrea confirmed something I already knew. When I was putting laundry away last night I noticed my size 29 jeans were there. I can't wear them anymore, I'm too fat - which means Andrea wears them. Which means she is smaller than me, which means I am fat.

I'm so proud of her, she has been working so hard on and off to try to lose weight and like her body better. But this has left me feeling horribly defeated. Even though I already knew it was happening.

I was trying to eat healthy, and exercising; cut out most sugars. I thought I was doing well. Weighed myself - gained weight. Another week went by, eating well etc; gained more weight. In total - in 4 weeks, I gained 10lbs. What's the point? I try and I fail. I have failed my body and I am resigned to fat. Disgusting gross fat. I hate the way I look.

I wish I could be one of those girls who could embrace their size, show it off, be proud of everything their body's have done. But that's not me. I was 110lbs. I did like the way I looked at one point. While I figured that being 100lbs wouldn't last I guessed that given my bone structure and what not 120lbs was my ideal normal size and that if I kept things normal I'd stay 120lbs. I was 120...went on meds..went to depressed, changed meds...140...150....160....165...started exercising...175. Im destined to be fat. Destined to be large. Destined to hate myself.

At least before when I was fat and hated myself I had my head. I knew I was intelligent, knew I was quick witted, knew I was funny, knew all these things. I felt strong, and competent - like I could always make it on my own. I am now a broken shell of what I once was. I am no longer intelligent - the meds, the bipolar - everything else has made all my thoughts foggy. Most jokes offend me, and I don't like being the butt of everyone's jokes like I was before. I am sensitive, and I cry all the time. I am weak, and people are afraid of my emotions. Afraid of me getting overwhelmed.

I am broken. I am fat. I hate myself.

I'm tired of hating myself. I am tired of trying things: all the different meds, therapies etc and having them fail, having me be reliant on something synthetic in order to make me function at even base level. I'm tired of trying to better my physique and my body and being shot down by lack of progress and weight gain.

All I do is fail, and frankly - I'm tired of trying.

Monday, 5 March 2012

Is it my fault?

I'm becoming more comfortable in telling people my diagnosis. I don't go around talking about it - but sometimes, with those I trust or I think are 'smart' enough to actually get it, I do admit it. I will say, I am still slightly ashamed and very embarrassed - but I have to embrace it.

So I did at work. My boss asked about my drug use, as he knew I was taking something, and was surprised I was so high functioning given my meds. This offended me, on so many levels. Like those with bipolar, or those on medication can't be functioning adults - can't be normal like everyone else, can't essentially do things because of what we have or what we take.

Then I mentioned to my coworkers about it, as we were talking about mental health issues. They seemed very knowledgeable and open, so I told them. They were quite understanding, asking questions and what not. Then I overheard them talking about how they think that most mental health issues can be prevented with proper diet, exercise, and environment.

Now I am not saying that diet, exercise, and environment can help these things - but all of those issues just seem to suggest that I had brought this on myself. That if I didn't eat that chocolate bar (or any of those chocolate bars), or run a little further, or didn't move to the big city for school I might not be bipolar now. I might have been able to prevent it.

Maybe I could have? Maybe I could have learned to control my emotions better as a child, talked about things more, found a healthy outlet..maybe...maybe...

Is there something to that? I'm trying not to berate myself - but it's hard to know that even the most intelligent people, even the one's you think won't judge you actually do, in their own quiet way.

On that note, however, I know I can help myself.

I am so influenced by sleep - or lack thereof. When I don't get a restful sleep or I am tired in the morning, it makes my whole day hard - like I don't have any energy left for anything, so I just lose control of everything. I need to find a way to be okay with asking to go back to sleep for an hour, or to lay down. It really is better for everyone if I am happier - it's just so hard to realize that when I'm already in that place.

The other one is hydration. Or again, lack thereof. I am craving juice lately - so hard. I know that means I need so much more water than I am getting, and perhaps some sugars? I have been drastically cutting out my sugars, chocolate and what not in an effort to lose weight, so maybe the lack of water and lack of high sugar foods are making me crave juice - and I think the lack of water also makes me tired; which just compounds the lack of restful sleep issue above.

It amazes me how interconnected everything is.