Tag Archives: Meds


I don’t know why I’m still shocked by the things people say or the questions they ask when they find out something from my past. I try to keep a low profile in the town I live in but I’ve been arrested a few times and I did go out every night for many years.

I also live in the smallest state so it isn’t hard for gossip to spread to people you don’t even know.

What I have a problem with are the idiotic questions from people who should know better. These are not teenagers, these are adults.

Here are some questions I’ve been asked.

“Do you get really good drugs?”

“Can I buy some from you?”

“Is that like One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest?”

“You must have felt like Frankenstein, did you?” (ECT)

“Did you meet any real crazy people where you were?”

“You’re not that bad are you? Like dangerous?”

“Aren’t there bugs and people writing on the walls with their own feces? That must have been awful”

“You’re okay now though, right?”

“Are you cured?”

“Oh, so you’re like the guy in One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest?” (If I hear it one more time I’ll scream)

“So what kind of drugs are you on? Anything good?” (this is asked often)

I’m not sure why people have this specific image of the mentally ill but they do. It hasn’t gotten better if anything it may have gotten a little worse with violent acts being blamed immediately on the mentally ill in the media. I notice that people are more weary around me at times. I don’t feel comfortable with this. I don’t to frighten people.

I admit that I also feel anger at the entire situation. The lack of empathy and basic humanity is appalling to me. MV5BMTc5ODUyMDI5Ml5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwNzM5OTQyNw@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1480,1000_AL_MV5BNDc2NjMwNTUwOF5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwOTUzNTIwNA@@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1499,1000_AL_MV5BMTA3MTE1ODE0NDReQTJeQWpwZ15BbWU3MDQ2OTQ5NzM@._V1_SY1000_CR0,0,1494,1000_AL_


I have never liked the feeling of being backed into a corner. I’ve always disliked it when someone thinks they know what is best for me. To me, it’s more annoying when it’s a family member or friend and not even a doctor.

I’ve had many ultimatums given to me in my life. Some of them I understand. I was slowly killing myself with alcohol. My liver was enlarged, my face was bloated, I couldn’t remember much from the nights I drank, I was emotional and out of control. I had over 20 years of ultimatums that no one followed through on and I never took seriously until my mom passed away.

When it comes to my diagnosed Mental Illnesses I become touchy when a person thinks they know what’s best for me. My sister telling me I need to hospitalize myself yet again plus my best friend snapping at me recently hasn’t helped. If you’ve read any of my other posts you might know that when my sister is done with someone she’s done. She was sick of our brother’s behavior so cut him out of her life. He’s seen her oldest son once at my mom’s funeral when he was first born and he’s never seen her youngest son.

I tried to mend things with her yesterday. It didn’t go well. I was told how selfish I am, how everything is always about me, how she has had to go to therapy for people with Bipolar family members because I’ve been so difficult, if I don’t hospitalize myself or prove I’m going to therapy I can’t be in her life anymore. I started to get extremely upset. This meant I started to stutter and cry. It was one of the worse episodes I’ve had. My mind was static, my hands felt tingly, my dad said I was repeating ” I don’t want to be here”. He had to take the phone from me. I was rocking back and forth with my hands on my head, my fingers were fluttering. I don’t remember all of this. My dad told me. He was crying.

My dad finally realized that I become a little (or a lot) worse after talking to my sister. She is never going to be able to give me what I need. You can’t ask something of someone who isn’t capable of giving it. I’ve been banging my head against a brick wall.

I have tried to explain to my family that I am medication resistant and therapy doesn’t even really work. I can go and rant to someone but as far as CBT and Behavioral Skills it goes in one ear and out the other. I will sit there and listen but I won’t absorb what’s being said.

These are FACTS: If you have a history of trauma, abuse, neglect, PTSD, a personality disorder, a history of alcohol or drug abuse, are female, went undiagnosed until later in life, have anxiety disorders or other medical conditions there’s a very high percentage that your Mood Disorder will be treatment resistant.

I do my research. There have been a million and one papers written on the subject. I wonder how people would feel if they were constantly being told that they are not liked the way they are. If someone told them that they have to change who they are and how they behave on a regular basis. It isn’t just my sister. If it was maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad. It’s also my ex/sister in law, my oldest niece, and recently for the first time ever my best friend. I have been going through a difficult time lately. Doesn’t anyone realize that? I’m dealing with serious physical illnesses, taking care of my dad, worrying about a roof over my head if something happens to him, worrying about money, I just found out that the last time I had my stents changed there was a problem with the anesthesia. My brain wouldn’t allow me to come out of it. I have to go for testing tomorrow to see if I’ll be ok for my surgery on the 29th. It’s a little stressful knowing that your brain doesn’t want you to wake up.

I have looked at a few places for therapy, social workers, and testing. I know my Psychiatrist is going through the motions and I’m getting a little pissed off. He just cuts and pastes every time I go. Then he charges Medicare for 70 minutes of Psychotherapy when I’m only in his office for a maximum of 12 minutes. I know this because there is a timer. Definitely time for a change. Now I actually have to do it.bb2140d009e4a770acad4d3998742693


This post won’t be popular. I would like to say that this bothers me but right now I’m too hurt about so many other things. First topic is easy ALCOHOLISM.

I hated AA. I tried it on many occasions either by choice or court ordered. So we are clear here there are female alcoholics that drink just as much as men. I’ve had people say to me “You’re not an alcoholic. What? Did you have a few too many glasses of wine?”. That is still the perception of a female alcoholic. Wine does count just as much it just wasn’t my choice. I even had the same mistaken thoughts about it.

I drank beer and hard liquor. When I recently visited relatives in Florida and mentioned to my Aunt what and how much I used to drink she was shocked. I thought she knew. They sell alcohol in almost every store in Florida. My Aunt had worked at a Market and knew the brands of liquor. When I told her I was up to about a case of beer and a pint of Ginger flavored brandy, Firewater, Jager, or many shots of Patron, it put it in perspective for her. She asked “Not wine then?”. No never wine. In my mind wine was for those people who were “weak”. I know I’m an idiot. Wine is still alcohol and can get you drunk just the same.

AA wasn’t for me because other people’s stories didn’t have an effect on me. The strong religious factor that they insisted wasn’t there but was, really bothered me. Sponsors telling me to get on my knees before bed and pray to God for my sobriety bothered me. When I left for the last time and my sponsor told me I would fail and have to beg God for forgiveness I had enough. It was a bad day at work, my mother was ill again and I was barely hanging on. I told her “It’s a good thing I’m an Atheist then huh?” and never looked back.

I was diagnosed as Bipolar and it shined a light on why I was drinking and doing the things I did. A lot of stuff made sense to me. So much so that the smell of alcohol turned my stomach. Will I never drink again? I’m not stupid enough to make that promise. I can say that right here, right now, today, I will not be drinking. That has worked for 8 years.

FAMILY AND MENTAL ILLNESS is an entire different story. Most of my family thinks I should be “better” or “cured” by now. It doesn’t work that way. There are a million and one factors that go into a diagnosis and most of them are wrong. There’s Genetics, your environmental surroundings when younger, trauma, when you first presented with symptoms, when you were diagnosed, what meds were you on before being correctly diagnosed, how long did it take for a correct diagnosis, did you have other disorders or illnesses coinciding with the mental illness like a drug or alcohol problem, or anxiety, or PTSD.

All of these things make a difference. A few years ago my twin sister was diagnosed with Conversion Disorder. She said she couldn’t remember little things. Two of her fingers would tremor, her eyelids would flutter or she would stare into space. She would come out of it and be tired not remembering it. She had a machine attached to her at home for 48 hours to detect any abnormal brain waves or seizure like activity. It came back negative. She had a sleep study done at the hospital hooked up to monitors that came back negative. Many tests were run until finally the Doctors told her she had Conversion Disorder due to stress which was causing these incidents that no one could find evidence of.

I was with her for 2 of them. She is my twin. I know her like the back of my hand. I know that when we were little and even as we grew older she was referred to as the “Drama Queen”. I watched the 2 fingers and her eyelids. I watched her breathing and how she acted when she came out of it. I admit that I tested her one time in the middle of an episode and she snapped right out of it because she thought her son was in trouble. There was no confusion, no “I have to take a nap, I feel so weak”, she was her usual self.

She received Disability faster than I did. She had no Hospitalizations, suicide attempts, lost jobs, etc. I had it all plus Shock Therapy. My judge made fun of me while she sailed right through. I bring it up because recently as she told me to “Put my big girl pants on and deal with things” she also said she had Conversion Disorder also but she was fine and was able to “overcome” her illness. Then why isn’t she working I wonder? I was given another ultimatum to either put myself in the Hospital or go to Therapy (I have to show proof) or she won’t be in my life. What gives her or anyone the right to threaten or give me ultimatums? The reason I cry so much is when I talk to her I can hear the disdain in her voice. I can hear how annoyed she is. There is no sympathy. There is no affection. There is no love. That is why I cry.

I have been to more Therapists that I can count. I have been to more Doctors than I can count. I have been told by at least 2 that some people are just resistant to Therapy and Medications depending on when they were diagnosed, how long they had symptoms of being Bipolar before getting a correct diagnosis, if they had other illnesses like Alcoholism or Conversion Disorder alongside the Bipolar Disorder, and there is also the fact that having Celiac Disease doesn’t help and neither does Stage 3 Chronic Kidney Disease.

So I want a new drug. One that won’t make me think. One that won’t me feel or remember. One that doesn’t cost too much. One that takes the pain away. And one that preferably won’t make me drool on myself. I’m tired of crying. I’m tired of apologizing for existing. I’m tire of seeing the look of pain and blame in my dad’s eyes. Most of all I’m just tired.

My Consequences of Today



I am afraid that I have permanently damaged my relationship with my twin sister today. I feel crushed, humiliated, miserable and such pain in my heart.

I’ve been ill with kidney problems and on top of that I got a head cold turning itself into Bronchitis. I’m miserable to say the least. No medications are working. There isn’t much I can take for cold medications. My ears hurt, my face hurts because my sinuses are so swollen and I have a cyst on each side. When the tissue swells it puts pressure on the cysts causing the mother of all sinus headaches. The puppy is keeping me awake all night and the Pomeranian started having seizures last night. If it was up to me I would find another home for the puppy and the Pomeranian would be put to sleep peacefully. She is an older dog and has had these seizures for years. Every time she has one it effects her brain. It’s getting harder to watch. Because of my illnesses the puppy isn’t getting the attention and training he needs. I’m usually with him but too sick to do much.

I was so overwhelmed this morning with the puppy, being sick, the state of the house, my dad, that I called my sister crying. She offered to pick me up and bring me to her house where I could get some rest.

I got to sleep peacefully for a while. When I woke up it was because I had a bad dream. I went downstairs and her husband was on the couch. My sister and I started talking.

She said she was ready to call Social Services on my Dad and I because the house is a health hazard. My brother in law said it needed to be bulldozed. My sister said it was ruined by the dogs and birds and not worth anything anymore. She said it was probably the reason I was so sick.

My brother in law said that I needed to “hear some truths and own up to my part in things”. I needed to “take responsibility for what I failed to do”. He quoted some more stuff I’m pretty sure he learned in AA. When he kept saying I needed to “own it” something snapped. I saw red. I finally said “Just like you’ve owned up to everything in your ONE YEAR of sobriety! I’ve had 7, who the hell are you to tell me to own up to anything?” Then he told me to “Get the FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE NOW! I MEAN IT! I DON’T CARE HOW SICK YOU ARE GET THE FUCK OUT!” So I said ” You’re nothing but a dry drunk. Don’t threaten me EVER! YOU THINK YOU’RE A BIG MAN? YOU’RE NOTHING!” At this point my sister is between us holding him back. I went and got my stuff from upstairs. When I came downstairs he kind of apologized by saying “I’m sorry I should know better and try to have more sympathy for people LIKE YOU” I said “Thanks. Don’t do me any favors.” I left and started walking home in the rain.

In the last few days I’ve lost 10 pounds. I am now 5’6″ and 120 pounds. Not good. My sister lives 25 minutes away by car. I’m not sure how I thought I was walking home. So I had to call my dad. I told my sister I’m too toxic for her and her family. I don’t want to come between her and her husband. I feel so alone. They will never understand battling Bipolar. How much harder it is when your medications are not working the way they should. When a man comes at you and sets off flashbacks and the panic attack is so bad you think you’re having a heart attack. How Bipolar is worse when you do not get enough sleep. No one wants to hear any of it. They want to talk about cleaning house when I can barely stand up, my hair is falling out at a rapid pace, my arms are skeletal, I can’t open a bottle of pills. But sure let me scrub the entire house, set mouse traps, line the cupboards, disinfect everything, find a place for the puppy that my dad won’t give up, try to get him to get rid of his birds and take care of myself. Easy. No  problem.

I’ll miss my nephews the most. I don’t want to hurt anyone else. Until I get better everyone is better off without me for now.

A Disturbing Episode

My father casually told me he has a tumor in his chest this morning. He doesn’t know if he will get a scan to see if it is cancerous. He says it’s because of the copay. He already pays 20% three times a week for his dialysis. He then went outside to try to catch a baby bird that got loose. But not before slamming cupboards and complaining about the shopping.

I had just started to make a Smores pie (Gluten Free). Everything overwhelmed me at once. I don’t quite remember all of it. I know I was crying and stuttering while talking to myself. I don’t know what I was saying. When my dad came back in the house I had a knife in my hand and was walking in a circle while crying, stuttering, and talking to myself. He couldn’t get my attention. I just kept going in a circle.

He said all he could make out was that I wanted my mom, that everything was my fault, and I asked where Pookie was. We had to euthanize him recently. I also kept saying I wanted to go home.

My dad took the knife from me and got a towel with cold water and wiped my face. It calmed me down. I was exhausted and left the kitchen a mess to lie down on the couch. It took an hour to feel somewhat normal. I apologized to my dad and asked if he still loved me. He said he always will no matter what.

Something has to give. The doctors need to figure out what’s wrong with my kidneys and the problems I’m having with my blood. If it’s interfering with my meds. I can’t take much more of this. I don’t think my dad can either. I’m thinking of bypassing the R.I. doctors and going to Boston. If 4 of the best in R.I. are stumped why am I still wasting my time with more of them? Maybe I’m just too scared.

How Can You Tell If Your Symptoms Are Due to Your Mental Health Or Physical?

I have had people ask me recently how I didn’t realize I was sick. I was starting to get frustrated with the questions. The problem is I NEVER feel well. I haven’t for years. It becomes hard to differentiate what’s normal and what isn’t. I was sick of being poked and prodded all the time.  I’ve had back pain since I was about 16. I got used to it. When a doctor asks about it it’s hard for me to explain because I’ve lived with it for so long.

So many of my symptoms crossover into each illness. Side effects from meds can be the same as Celiac. Celiac is linked to depression and stuttering. Conversion Disorder for me causes stuttering and tremors. Kidney problems have been associated with Celiac and some medications. My cognitive function has been linked to Bipolar, Celiac, and medications.

Being blamed for not knowing how ill I am makes me feel more alone and depressed. When I think back maybe there were signs I should’ve noticed. I didn’t. I had been glutened by accident. When this happens it can cause constipation or the opposite, fatigue, headaches, pain in my abdomen or gallbladder, an entire 2 page list of symptoms. It also takes months to recover. So that’s why I didn’t really notice anything until my feet swelled 4 times their size.

Now I have to have a biopsy of my urethral wall. It’s risky. The doctor doing it is the best and even he is concerned about the risk. They have one chance to get a piece of the area they need. The area is a small place to work in so if he doesn’t get it right I have to have a different kind of biopsy. The other problem is if he causes a “stricture” because then they have to rebuild the ureter and replace it causing more kidney damage.

None of this sounds good to me. But 4 doctors agree I need the biopsy because they are stumped. They don’t want me to go into kidney failure again.

I’m scared. It’s a lot of anesthesia. A lot of stress. Medicare is giving me a hard time so I’m worried about money. My Bipolar meds are not working to their full potential, leaving me a mess.

I know I am venting but there is no one to talk to. I have to get it out of my head or it will spin out of control.

Weight For Me

A lot of you may know that I spent the majority of my life in the body of a 250 pound person. When I was diagnosed as Bipolar then with Celiac Disease things began to change. I also began my journey of sobriety. The meds can make you gain or lose weight, it’s difficult to find food that is appealing and affordable for Celiac and alcohol bloats you and puts on the pounds.

The combination of meds I have taken for the last few years made me lose weight rapidly, I am also always sick from the Celiac because mine stays active. I lost 120 pounds in less than a year. It looks like more because I have a muscle wasting disease caused by the Celiac. It shows mostly in my face. There isn’t anything I can do about it. I also no longer have the trigger in my brain that tells me I’m thirsty, this leads to dehydration.

I bring all of this up because it is difficult to respond to people who haven’t seen me in awhile. People don’t realize the things they say. I often get the response of “You must be so much happier now that you are thin”. Actually I’m not. My brain has trouble processing it when I look in the mirror. I also didn’t lose the weight in a healthy way. This leaves me in an awkward position. Do I tell the truth or do I lie so everyone feels better? Why do they have to assume my happiness depends on my weight? My sister tells me I look awful, like a skeleton. My father has asked that I don’t lose anymore. Others say I look good. I looked up my height and age and I am within my target weight. I’m just tired of the comments and questions.

I’m also tired of going clothes shopping alone. My sister refuses because she is no longer thinner than me. I cry in dressing rooms. I was always complimented on my style as a plus sized woman. Now I can’t even decide on a pair of socks. It shouldn’t be this way should it? I should be enjoying this time. I try not to let other people bother me but guess what? I’m human and Bipolar and over sensitive. I think robes should make a good fashion statement. I love pajamas. Maybe I’ll stick to those.

What Would You Do?

I guess I’m not doing as well as I thought I was. I’ve lost 10 pounds in the last week. Pounds I can’t afford to lose. The change in meds is part of it and I just don’t feel like eating. I am sad, nostalgic, and crying often. I said I would do a friend’s hair not because I want to but because I really don’t have any friends. I’m not sure I have the physical strength to do it. But I am afraid to say no. I’m in a cycle of wanting to do things but NOT wanting to do things. Makes no sense.

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