As Promised, A Post


Well this is what happens when you don’t blog for a while, you forget what’s happened. I’ll try to remember the main points. There may be some sensitive material here, discussion of suicidal ideation, abuse, depression. I don’t know what I’m going write so just be aware.

Basically I’ve been dealing with a lot of depression. I was absolutely in crisis not that long ago and was almost certainly hospital bound but somehow through my therapist, my husband and psychiatrist, I managed to stay out of it. I’m in a weird state of mind though. Usually when I go through depression and come out of it I stabilize. This time I’m on edge like one small thing could push me over or pull me back down into crisis again. It’s very disconcerting.

I saw my therapist yesterday and we were talking about my health problems. She asked me if I’m afraid of dying. I said no. After talking some more we and more so me really realized that even though I thought I was over my death fixation, I’m not, not really. I still find relief in the thought of dying but I’m not suicidal. Many people who struggle with mental illness know what mean by those words.

I also was having tremendous difficulty with being an orphan…feeling abandoned and unloved by my family. My biological father doesn’t want me, my stepfather lied about wanting a relationship, my uncle (not the abuser) my only close relative since my mother died, never talks to me. It was very upsetting. I felt like something was wrong with me because no one wanted me. However my therapist said some things that really helped. She brought out that their behavior was not new. They were not rejecting me all at once, suddenly, they’ve always been this way. She said, and this phrase was key for me, that I kept going to a dry well expecting water. I don’t know what it was about that sentence but it really stuck with me. It really simplified the situation for me and made me think “Yeah, why do I keep doing that?” It was very helpful.

I found I couldn’t take the PTSD nightmare medication every night because it also lowers blood pressure and I already tend to be on the low side so I would get dizzy and lightheaded all day the next day. I can only take it here and there or she suggested taking half. I noticed if I don’t take it is have dreams about being raped regularly. If you had asked me if I have nightmares I would have said no because I didn’t think of them that way…it’s normal for me. Now I know better.

It’s important to realize if you have something like bipolar disorder or depression or whatever that what I call “situational depression”, depression that comes from a situation that has happened ie someone has died, you lost your job…normal things anyone would be depressed about, this can snowball into a chemical reaction that makes your mental illness switch turn on. It’s happened to me many times; a situation that causes normal depression gets out of control because my brain’s chemical balance gets messed up and suddenly I’m in full-blown crisis. Be aware of how long you’re situational depression is lasting and take steps to get it under control because you lose control. For that means if my depression lasts maybe more than a week or two I need to start taking my anti-depressant. I don’t always do that though because the depression makes me not care. This time around I was so far gone that I couldn’t make any decisions, even on whether to eat or not, so my therapist told me to take my medicine so I did.

The last struggle I will talk about is having “friends” who are completely and utterly self-centered. I have two of them in my life, one of them is intolerable. I have literally said to her “I’ve had a bad month” and she said “You have? Let me tell you about mine…” She never and I mean never asks how I’m doing and even if no one is talking about their health she will simply start talking about her random health problems even if it’s awkward because the conversation was about something completely different. My other friend literally spent 3 hours last week one afternoon talking about herself. I made a comment and she said something like ‘Yeah, you’ve been suffering’ and then said ‘So back to what I was saying.’ I reached out to her last year after some of her relatives passed away and we became friends because of that even though when my mother died her attitude was more like ‘Suck it up’. Suddenly when it happened to her everything was different. I figured that nobody’s perfect so I could do what I wished other people had done for me and be there for her, but now…she’s so into talking about herself…I don’t know what to do with her and this other person. With the first friend I actually want to confront her about her behavior and cut her out of my life but she’s part of a huge family that I’m friends with and if I alienate her it will damage my friendship with at least two of the others which would hurt me.

Okay this was probably my longest post ever but I warned you yesterday. Hope you all are staying safe and taking care of yourselves everyday. 

Posted in bipolar disorder, Child Abuse, Child Molestation, dissociative identity disorder, Dreams, Incest, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Rape, self-harm, Sexual Abuse, suicidal ideation, Therapy, Trauma | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Coming Soon…


Yes I know I’ve been gone. I think that maybe not blogging means that I don’t have to confront my feelings or talk about what’s happened. However, that is not a good enough reason not to blog so, I’m going to put it on my calendar to sit down and write about everything that’s been going on. It will probably mean a very lengthy post but you guys won’t have to read it if you don’t want to. 

I’m hoping to get it done by maybe Friday? I hope so. So hang in there with me.

Posted in dissociative identity disorder | Leave a comment

Taking Stock


Sometimes you keep getting smacked in the face and you just have to stop and take stock of what’s going on in your life and at least acknowledge it so you can see what you’re up against.

I think that since the dad debacle I’ve been distracting myself with various coping mechanisms, but coping doesn’t really get at the core issues wreaking havoc on my life.

As a bit of an update, my dad never ever called, his wife never ever responded. In a strange turn of events, his stepdaughter reached out via social media after decades with some tripe about missing me and loving me. I called BS politely because I haven’t seen her since I was 12 years old and you  can’t love someone you haven’t spoken to in over 30 years and don’t even know. She had the audacity to tell me she asks my father about me and I called BS again because he knows less about me than my postman does. She made excuses and I was not interested in hearing them. Then a few days later one of my half-sisters (someone else I don’t know) contacted me, also via social media. The biggest twist of this event was that she said she got my information from my father and his wife. Oh so they are capable of communicating? My father simply chose not to return my call. Excellent!

I am still staggered at how much he was able to hurt me without uttering one word to me at all, I truly am. I haven’t even begun to deal with this issue and I feel it on a daily basis like a stone in my chest.

The death of my therapist suddenly last year from cancer is another blow that I hadn’t realized was eating away at me. A large reason that it’s so troubling is that I was not allowed to talk about her death to anyone I knew (except my new therapist, but I’ll get into that) because of the nature of our relationship and because people are idiots. The day I found out she had passed, actually minutes afterward, I had someplace to be. I told the person I was meeting that my therapist had died and I got a “look”. The look was full of judgment for me not only being in therapy but being upset that my therapist had died. The attitude of the looker clearly said that I had no right to grieve such an insignificant event. I think that reaction dictated the road the rest of my grief took and part of that is definitely on me for letting it happen but people are also stupid when it comes to finding out that someone they know is in therapy. Most of my “friends” don’t get being in therapy in the first place and certainly wouldn’t have gotten being grieved over the loss of someone who’s helped you cope and start to heal for almost 15 years. So I bottled my grief up and spoke about her to no one, even my husband.

Of course I had a new therapist who happened to have been good friends of my old therapist and I could talk to her about J but it felt wrong somehow. I felt like I would be bringing up this awesome person over and over and over to this new person and it wouldn’t be nice. Again, I bottled things up. This weighs on me as well because J’s loss was a powerful blow and I haven’t dealt with it at all.

Being diagnosed last year with an autoimmune disease was difficult even though it was a relief to finally be taken seriously after years of having a doctor who did less than nothing about my symptoms. I’ve been experiencing some neurological issues though and it’s adding stress because I don’t know what’s going on yet.

My recent bout with bipolar depression and the close call with hospitalization was awesome and reminded me that bipolar is in the title of this blog for a reason.

Let’s not forget the lovely sexual abuse. I had a doozy of a week a while ago which I will likely blog about but it was basically trigger-palooza for me and I’m surprised I didn’t lose it and scream my head off.

I still miss my mom and yes I still know how crazy that sounds. Her brother still never talks to me and I don’t know why. My stepfather hasn’t spoken to me in at least six months besides a group email alerting a few of us to his new address. I miss my mom…did I say that already? Yeah I did.I’m insane, I know.

I’ve been walking that dangerous line with food. It snuck up on me without me really noticing it and then when I finally did notice it, I didn’t want to fight it. I am fighting it a bit because I don’t really want to go back to having an eating disorder again but part of me wants to give in because of how it makes me feel.

I went to the doctor today and something else may be wrong with me…I’ll know more tomorrow hence the posting tonight because I’m just done right now.

I live in my head because it’s safer in there and the people in there don’t hurt me.

I’m probably forgetting something but this has been long enough already. I plan on writing a letter to my dad that will not be mailed (or maybe it will) to help process my feelings.I need to tell my therapist about the food issue so that’s another plan. The other stuff…I don’t know. This weekend is busy so I’ll see where I am afterwards when I can breathe a bit.

Posted in abuse, Child Abuse, Child Molestation, dissociative identity disorder, Eating Disorder, Incest, neglect, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, Rape, self-harm, Self-injury, Sexual Abuse, suicidal ideation, Therapy, Trauma | Tagged , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Is It Hospital Time?


*mild trigger warning for depressed thoughts and suicidal ideation mentioned once*

Emotions are flat. I’m tired, no enjoyment. Feeling like I’m not contributing anything to society.   Happened very suddenly though out of nowhere, not gradually like usual so I’m confused. No trigger that I can see. I thought about going to sleep and how I would have peace finally. I know that’s not good. I have therapy in about 45 minutes, not sure what she’ll say. My husband is checking on me all the time. I’m not sure where this is going to end up, if it will resolve on it’s own,  if I need medication or if it will get bad enough for the hospital.

Posted in self-harm, suicidal ideation, Therapy | Tagged , | 5 Comments

PTSD Drug For Nightmares


Hello everyone. I wanted to do a quick post about a new medication my therapist prescribed to help me with what I’ve always called “bad dreams”.

For quite some time now I’ve been waking up really tired because my dreams are so exhausting. Constantly running away from danger for hours and hours , trying to escape being beaten, fighting off rapists and other unpleasant subject matters have haunted my dreams. Of course I’ve had bad dreams since young childhood but this was really affecting my ability to get up in the morning.

My therapist had been offering to help me with nightmares for a while and I always said no 1) because I thought that I might get memories of my abuse through my dreams and I didn’t want to prevent that from happening and 2) I didn’t consider most of these dreams to be nightmares, as I said, I called them “bad dreams” and I assumed that everyone had these all the time. But per my usual experience in therapy, sometimes you find out your normal is not normal.

I finally got tired of being tired and agreed to try to medication: Prazosin. It’s for high blood pressure but she told me they’ve been giving it to soldiers to treat PTSD nightmares.

I was very skeptical but I tried it, taking it right as I thought I was falling asleep. Oh boy did it make a difference! Apparently 95% of my dreams aren’t just “bad dreams” they’re nightmares. My therapist said I’ve adapted to having them my whole life which is why I didn’t realize what they were.

I would say that the medication has worked about 80-85% of the time. It was higher at first but then after 2 weeks some bad drea…no…nightmares pushed through for a few nights. I still had a bad one where I was being killed over and over again between a mattress and a box spring by a man…yeah that wasn’t good, I still remember it.

But, I’ve had a more restful sleep since I started it. Now I’m afraid that I will be dependent on it though. My therapist said not to worry about it, she has a patient who’s been on it for a year or more I believe.

I know many of you have been through some awful things and I figured I’d share that maybe something might be out there that could help with nightmares. I don’t know how long this will work for me. Maybe it will stop, maybe it won’t. Maybe it’s a placebo and I just think it works and suddenly my brain will figure it out and weeks of pent up nightmares will tumble out. I’m always like that when something works. But hey, if you think it can help any of you, talk to your doctors or therapists, get their thoughts, not just mine. Remember it treats high blood pressure so if you have problems with low blood pressure already, you need to consider that. My therapist told me to get up slowly if I wake up to go to the bathroom for example.

Alright, that’s all for now, take care all of you

Posted in Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, PTSD, Trauma | Tagged , , | 6 Comments

And The Road Leads To Confusion & Hurt


To follow up my last post about making contact with my bio-dad, let me be a little more clear about what led up to this and then I’ll tell you what happened.

Basically I found out that my father’s wife had sent me a message via social media two years ago but it was filtered. No this was WAY before my mother passed away.

I decided that I would have likely responded sort of politely back then and that it could have appeared that I was being rude because I hadn’t replied.

I sent a message back explaining what happened and was showered with salutations and words of affection from his wife. Things like ‘we miss you’, ‘we’re so worried about you!’, ‘your father is so happy I talked to you!’ ‘Sorry about your mother, I’m here for you and so is your father.’…

I was given numbers to call and when I asked, I was given his schedule for the week including his days off: Thursday-Sunday, and the best time to call on Thursday. I replied that I would call Thursday.

That was where I left all of you Wednesday night; me a nervous wreck, almost ill from anxiety.

It had been days since the initial contact and in my mind I wandered why, if my father was so concerned, so happy that I made contact, then why had he been silent after I got in touch? All messages came from his wife, conveying his supposed thoughts and feelings. He could have easily sent a message as well, to communicate with me himself. He didn’t. Why?

Thursday morning I was so nervous I couldn’t stand it but I waited until it would be 9:45 a.m. his time before I called to give him time to be up and eat. I called his cell phone to have a better chance of getting him instead of his wife (when I was younger she’d make me talk to her for a long, long time before finally letting me talk to my dad). The phone rang and…no answer. I heard his voice telling me to leave a message, which I did. I hadn’t heard his voice in at least ten years. I left my number and told him if he didn’t have free long distance he could call and I would call right back because I do have free long distance.

I sat by the phone and waited nervously for my dad to call back, playing possible conversations back and forth in my head. An hour went by…three…five…ten. No call. I sent his wife a message via the same social media saying that I had called, left a message, not heard back and that when he wanted to talk to me, he could call me.

It’s Friday night and almost 10:00 p.m. where my father is. He hasn’t called nor have I heard back from his wife.

Perhaps something bad happened and that’s why he hasn’t called. Yes, part of me is still hoping for a good reason even though I swore never to hope in this man again.

I can’t help but think that if it had been me and my child whom I hadn’t spoken to in over ten years, and who had lost her mother, was calling me for the first time, I would be by that phone all day waiting, and if by some chance I missed her call, I would be checking my messages and calling her back immediately.

But that’s just me I guess. I’m sitting here thinking that he’ll call tomorrow and give me a really good, really legitimate reason for not calling me back and we’ll move on to seeing if we can even have some sort of relationship. If he calls, I plan on asking him why he’s waited and why he wasn’t around when his own wife said he would be. It needs to be good. Really good. I’ve waited on this man too much in my life already.

Posted in dissociative identity disorder | 4 Comments

Dangerous Road Ahead


I shouldn’t write when my sleep meds are about to kick in so this will be short.

I’m going to talk to my biological father tomorrow. I haven’t spoken to him in probably ten years? He didn’t reach out when my mom died so I’m expecting more disappointment.

I’m so nervous I can hardly breathe sometimes.

I’ll update afterwards.

Posted in Family Relationships | 4 Comments