Depression Moon

Waxing gibbous, perigee Moon mocks me

with her neither large or small shining call.

She terrifies me when full –

some symptom flares up.

She sneaks up on me when new –

surprising energy leading to health or shame.

Moon mocks me in all guises except crescent.

The Cheshire Cat grins and I know

I’m safe for tonight.

 

Waxing gibbous, perigee Moon glowered at me.

Sadly, I’m reminded that Moon

guides/tempts/throws me. I, her slave.

No path to guide me, save to the hospital.

No salvation from temptation

except a friend’s interruption.

No lifeline thrown, save the red bag

half-packed awaiting Full Moon’s beckon.

 

Waxing gibbous, perigee Moon shines brightly

as she rounds out, rings around her.

She tells me it’s time, though she is not full.

My hunch from her confirmed as I crawl around

trying to function

and the Mom confirms Moon.

Depression drops me off at the hospital.

Trying to Travel

For people with bipolar disorder especially, travel can be very destabilizing. Time changes, schedule and routine changes, new activities and people – all work to change one’s life enough that a mood change might commence. 

I’m visiting my family several states away, but in the same time zone. I haven’t seen them in over five years. We are celebrating Thanksgiving together since we haven’t done that in 25 years. The visit sounds great, right? My schedules and routines and stamina are different. Being with family is being around some kind of strangers since I hardly ever see them. We have different views on politics and religion so we don’t talk about them – my idea. We’ve done some kind of activity every day. So I’ve needed to have stamina for all the driving (they live in the boonies) and the activity itself. 

I discharged from the hospital the Saturday before I traveled on Tuesday. My mood really was stable. Starting yesterday I’m feeling a dip in mood toward depression with suicidal thoughts and plans. I would say I’ve been managing anxiety well – one day, one hour at a time. But anxiety, I think, is triggering this potential mood change, as often happens for me. Some environmental factor triggers anxiety which leads to suicidal thoughts, and I feel depressed that I’m feeling suicidal. 

My therapist thinks I get suicidal when I don’t feel perfect, my too high expectations aren’t met. Maybe in this case, I wanted to feel relaxed around my family. And when that didn’t happen – which should have been obvious from the beginning – I become anxious, then suicidal, then depressed. 

And that’s where I am now. I can probably make it til I get back home. I just don’t want to spiral as I do into needing the safety of a hospital. 

Cycling, the Endless Cycling – and Consequences

Well, I’ve had a volatile 2 months since I’ve written. I had another bout with mania that led to great consequences with my NOT thought out at all high-risk, high confidence behavior. One of my doctors thinks I may have been psychotic. And that should make the legal battle with my finances a bit easier – to argue that I was out of my mind and therefore not responsible for the behaviors. We’ll see, I guess. I have yet to secure a pro-bono or sliding-scale lawyer to take the case.

Following the first day of dealing with consequences, no surprise, I ended up in the hospital for over 2 weeks. I was out for 5 days dealing with more clean-up and consequences and ended up back in for nearly a week. Two days out cleaning up and in again. Anxiety was the primary motivator for these. Even when I knew what to do to clean up my psychotic mess, it was still too overwhelming to do it. And I got too close to making more foolish decisions (suicidal actions) out of anxiety instead of mania this time. And when the anxiety lifted a little, post-mania depression was waiting for me.

I’ve been out 10 days and have finished as much clean-up as I can. Next week I begin stage 2 with trying to find a lawyer.

But I’m suicidal every day. Every day I see suicide as the answer to a question that only exudes pain. I don’t know where it comes from. Existential angst is the closest I can come. Anxiety about handling life to the expectations I have for myself? Which I know are way.too.high. I’m trying to get back into healthy schedules and healthy eating and exercise. I know that will help, though it will only help a little bit.

I’m supposed to fly to visit my family on the 1st. I haven’t seen them in 5 and 1/2 years. We’re doing Thanksgiving early. We haven’t all been together for Thanksgiving in over 20 years.

I’m hoping in 11 days I’m at least only a little suicidal and not obsessional so I can take the trip. I’d hate to be in the hospital instead of going. This is the $78 round trip I booked in July, expecting to be stable this whole time.

Fate had other plans. Manias, depressions, and anxiety. My eternal companions until I can shake them permanently. (See how helpful suicide sounds?)

Summer Mania – No Surprise

Well, I had an interesting week last week doing high-confidence, high-risk behaviors that were outside my usual way of being in the world. I had lessened need for sleep, which is very much different from my 8-9 hours a night that I usually need. When I saw my psychiatrist, she confirmed I had a short bout with mania. Yay.

I’m more likely to have a manic episode in July or August. No particular reason why, unless I’m getting too much sun. I hate the sun normally. It’s too hot, it burns my skin if I even think about it, and I succumb to heat stroke quickly. However, the increased light of this time of year could lead to mania. Which it did.

This week I’m a little depressed, but a new relationship is keeping my spirits higher than I otherwise might have been.

I’m a bit worried about September. It’s another equinox and change in weather and light patterns. I’m susceptible to suicidal depression when seasons change – any of them. I’m so lucky that way. I AM trying not to borrow trouble and just let each day unfold as it will.

What Stable Might Look Like

I’ve been out of the hospital for a month now. That is a milestone for this past year. Last time I was out for a significant period of time was last spring and summer for 6 months. I wasn’t happy, but I was out of the hospital. Not suicidal at all.

It was a mostly good time. I was doing important volunteer work, but it wasn’t feeding me. What was missing was something that seemed meaningful to me and used my skills that I still had from being a pastor. I wanted to speak and teach, two of my greatest strengths and what I imagined I would do in the future. Instead I was volunteering where I was mostly alone.

This time around I am putting together a presentation that I will share with churches. “Hear the story of the Rev. Deborah xxxx and her life with mental illness and how congregations can be involved in mental illness help in and outside their doors.” I’m offering it for free – there is no barrier for small churches with little or no budgets for adult education. I think this will help with reducing my own stigma about myself, as well as stigma in society. Congregations can be powerful actions for change. I can start somewhere.

I feel like I’m doing meaningful work and using the skills I love the best. I hope this keeps me out of the hospital for a very long time.

June at the Hospital

Well, I ended up in the hospital again after not making to my next dr appointment. And then 4 days after that discharge I ended up going in for suicidal and homicidal thoughts – something I’ve never experienced before. I had gone to NAMI’s Living Room where you are screened by a counselor, then talk with a peer specialist, then get screened again by a counselor. All of which ended up with an ambulance ride and then waiting for a transfer from the ER to my psych hospital.

Sigh.

At least that hospitalization was mercifully short – 3 days. There was a treatment team meeting about me and to be honest, I don’t think anything important came out of it. They think I’m too comfortable at the hospital and they want to make things uncomfortable to help my treatment. And they want no big med changes. And pointed out that the longer I am at the hospital, the more likely I am to get sicker. It’s not like I WANT to be at the hospital. Just that it’s a safe place when I’m not feeling safe.

In addition, while I was in my first June hospitalization I had extensive psych testing done, which came back yesterday. I talked with my psychiatrist about it yesterday and we agreed it was bunk. We know what we’re dealing with since we’ve been working with it for 5 years together now.

Sigh.

I’m still re-entering the real world from the long hospitalization, as well as the shorter ones. I’ve got people I’m checking in with, tasks to do each day. I’m taking it slow and giving myself lots of credit. I’m actually doing pretty well with this plan. Slowly I’ll add back in the gym and starting in my plan to talk about mental health in churches. But no rushing. Got to get back in the swing of things, gently.

Psychiatrist Says Overwhelmed

Understatement of the year. I shared how overwhelmed I felt doing very small tasks. And I shared my thoughts and feelings about suicide and my wish to die. And she wants me to stay with people, even while going home to handle little tasks. That’s when I feel safest – with people – even though I still want to die. I’m obsessing about ways again, the way I was in the hospital. I have an appointment with her again on Friday. I guess my goal is stay out of the hospital for the next 3 days. But it’s so painful – the feelings and wanting to die, as well as the struggle to stay out. Hour by hour I hurt and I have to tell myself “just thoughts” or “just feelings” or “just an obsession.”

I want to die.

Bipolar sucks.