The Start of that Journey for Me

I can’t help but feel like the cat that ate the canary, I feel as though I am constantly improving (with a few bumps that have to be expected). Meanwhile, there are those out there that are still suffering. Whether it is something old or something new, I want to help as much as I possibly can. The problem is that when I when I try to get my mind around that task, I find myself being held back by the process of learning to live my life on the positive side. I have spent so much time down there that I am not sure how to be up here. I think there is a natural urge to just take my good fortune and run with it even thought I know that no matter how far I go there is the possibility of ending up right back down. What I need to do is figure out who I am up here and figure out what I have to do to stay up here. Once I do that, I think I’ll be able to give back. This is the start of that journey for me.

Off My Game

I feel like I have been a little off my game for the past few days.  I hadn’t given it any thought but this evening I gave it a lot of thought.  On Tuesday, in an effort to rid myself of hallucinations, or what my psych-doc calls “Visual Illusions”, we changed some of my medication around.  It doesn’t seem like much but I went from 125mg of Nortriptyline to 150mg and from 75mg of Amitriptyline to 50mg.  Now, the way the chemistry is supposed to work out the two drugs are supposed to be almost the same.  Amitriptyline is like Nortriptyline except that it also induces sleep.  Once the sleep causing part has been processed by the liver it is chemically the same as Nortriptyline.  Given that explanation, the adjustment being made should not cause any problems.  But, as we all know, med changes of any kind can be problematic.  So, if I ever actually had any “game” in the first place, this little change may be what’s whacking me about.  Hopefully things will get better over the next few days.


I am constantly searching for closure in everything I write.  Sometimes it works out, other times, most times, I start but do not finish.  But I had a thought.  My writing is not the only place I strive for closure.  I try to find it everywhere in my life.  What I am learning and trying to live is that life is infinite in it’s possibilities.  Gaining closure something I have aspired to for many situations in my life but it happens in fewer and fewer places.  So, I have to consider alternatives.  Maybe what I need is an answer, not necessarily the answer.  That would certainly go a long way towards answering questions I have about things in my Bipolar Life.  I don’t know for sure, and I may have mentioned this before, I believe that my encounter with Bipolar Disorder started on St. Patrick’s Day, 2003.

I know, I know… this again.  I think the fact that I lost my life for seven seconds on March 17, 2003 and that I started having bouts of depression after that may be an indication that something inside my brain took a hit that day.  Somewhere in the process of dying and being brought back set me on the path I find myself on now.  This is something I will never know the answer to, I will never find closure here, but I have to believe that I am on the right track.  I do find it puzzling that it took four to six years for the mania and psychoses to start but that will have to be a footnote to the story.

What does all of this have to do with getting closure in what I write?  Well, I think that it will be easier for me if I don’t always put the pressure on to finish what I’m writing.  Maybe what I’ve written is done without an extra paragraph, stanza, verse or line I’ve been working on for hours.  I’ll try it out and see how it goes.  Please don’t hesitate to call me on anything.

I am exhausted

I am exhausted,
not because I have
been doing anything
rough or hard or
physical, because
my mind has been
at work for a while
now, trying to keep
me from writing,
and explaining, and
talking about what
it was like to be lost,
that’s it, there I said
it, what are you
going to do about
it now?

I lost my mind, one
time, I don’t remember
it much, but I can
recall enough, how
something made me
weak, made me
susceptible, easily
coerced into losing
touch with reality,
everyone else had a
different reality than
me, I lost my mind!

It’s OK, it was just
that one time, it
went away, but
now it’s back, it
doesn’t try to keep
me quiet anymore,
I have these pretty,
colored candies that
I got from my friend
that I see once a
week, they keep my
mind from leaving,
most of the time,
but every so often,
it gives it a try.

I can’t sleep and
I can’t understand
a word anyone is
saying, take those
sheets off and don’t
come here, that’s
where I already am,
you have to let
me go, I’m not
safe, big hawks are
trying to take me,
but if I run they
can’t catch me,
I will run until the
hawks are all gone

there it is, my
mind was right here
the whole time,
now that I have it
back, it wasn’t lost
merely misplaced,
but it is here now,
so I am going to
go to my room
and have a nap

— GB

My Argument for Bipolar Disorder

I’m thinking about the time between when I was diagnosed with depression and when I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder.  I received my first diagnosis from an actual psychologist in late 2003 to early 2004.  It’s not that clear to me because it was not that big a deal to me.  I had, in the past year, come off a bout with cancer which turned itself around in pretty short order.  I wasn’t quite feeling like myself, more down than usual. So I went to a psychiatrist, was diagnosed with depression, got a prescription for an anti-depressant and went on with my life.  I figured it was all part of the healing process, part of having cancer and so would become part of my life.  I took my anti-depressant as I should. I stopped drinking as I should.  I saw my doctors as I should.  Everything was as normal as it could be.

In the spring of 2005 I was given the opportunity to move across the country, from Virginia Beach to San Diego.  So I did.  When I got to San Diego, I found a new set of doctors and went about my merry way. But something was different.  I went out a lot more often, spent money more freely, had a lot of one night stands.  I also had more and more bouts with depression.  At first I attributed it to being worn out from the increased pressure to perform at work.  I didn’t even identify it as depression.  When I talked to my psychiatrist about it, I told him I was having a hard time sleeping and he prescribed Ambien.  This worked for a while, I was rested and work was easier to deal with but my highs were getting higher.  I was spending more time at work or I was working at home in the evenings, on top of that I was still going out at night.  Pretty soon the candle was about to meet in the middle and boy was I going to get burned.  I told my psychiatrist that I was having problems sleeping again and he prescribed Lunesta.  I took Lunesta for about a week or so and then things started going sideways.  I was having problems at work, I wasn’t treating my co-workers and customers with the respect they deserved then I started hallucinating.  The main hallucination had little men trying to get into my apartment. The rest of this story has been told earlier in this blog and I don’t think I need to rehash it here.

The thing I came away with when really looked at it, is that I should have been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder at least as early as 2005.  The problem is that no one could see it.  I was in a new town, with new friends and we were all just out to have a good time.  This would have been fine if I hadn’t previously been diagnosed with depression and on an anti-depressant.  If I had the Bipolar diagnosis at this time I believe there would have never been as psychotic break. Up until I had the psychotic break my anti-depressant prescription never changed.  After that, I was diagnosed with psychotic depression which made more sense and different medications were given.  It wasn’t until I moved here in 2012 and had a full psychiatric work up by my current psych-doc that I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and started on the path to figuring out just which medications are right for me.  I am finally getting the treatment needed to make me level.

To some, Bipolar Disorder sounds like a horrific diagnosis.  For me, it sounds like music to my ears.  To me it means that I’m getting my life back.

700 So Fast

I published my 600th post on the 12th of January and now, 17 days later I am poised to publish #700.  Not a lot has happened in that time, well I’m sure a lot has happened but not a lot in my blog world.  I did get my 200th follower, that’s something to celebrate, but other than that I’ve just been writing and reading (books and other blogs).  So to celebrate 700 posts, I’m going to………………………… do nothing.  I’m just going to keep on doing what I do.  I will also say thank you to everyone that reads, “likes”, comments and follows.  Without you guys, I would probably have hung it up by now.  Thank you, thank you, thank you!!