I wrote this earlier today. I’m doing better now thanks to my wife. She knows when something is wrong and she is the one I can truly talk to. She listens to me and helps me see things differently than how my bipolar brain makes me see things, especially during crisis. It is because of her that I’m still here. It wasn’t prayer. Keine Engel kamen um zu helfen. It wasn‘t some high-priced, over-paid, overrated shrink. It was my wife… her compassion and love for me that saved me. I‘m now experiencing the feeling of washout and emotional exhaustion that comes after crisis, but I‘m here to feel it. Being at the mercy/whim of poorly controlled bipolar disorder is exhausting. Trying to control a mind hijacked by disorder is like trying to herd cats… 24 hrs a day, 7 days a week. Sometimes I‘m doing pretty good, and sometimes, like
Why do psychiatrists charge so much? It’s not a rhetorical question. I’d really like to know. I could understand it better if they actually did or told you something that was new or life-changing, but (in my experience) they don’t. They only tell you what you already know. Perhaps now and then it’s something you’d never really thought about because it’s simply part of your “normal” but not everyone else’s. But even that is rare. They may phrase things differently to make you see something in a different way but it’s certainly not life-changing. No, they do what every other doctor does and simply throw drugs at you. Drugs that have horrendous side effects. Psychiatrists differ from psychologists in that they are doctors who can and do prescribe drugs but have also gone to school longer to study psychiatry. They tend to look at things a bit differently than psychologists.
I saw a tweet on Twitter today that really resonated with me. It was about removing toxic people from your life in order to allow yourself to be happier and healthier. A person doesn’t have to be violent, abusive, or anything extreme to qualify as toxic. Someone who simply doesn’t appreciate you regardless of how much you reach out would also qualify as toxic. If you’ve ever heard the excuse, “Sorry, I just haven’t had time…” over and over again then that’s a pretty obvious sign that the person making the excuse really means they don’t have time for you. There can be no denying the fact that people make time for those they care about. If you’ve reached out to someone time and again via calls, texts, emails… however you’ve reached out and they consistently fail to even acknowledge you then that is a person you should probably seriously
“You are a survivor.” Those are the exact words one of my shrinks said to me years ago. I think the words hold truer now even more than when he spoke them. I have survived the deepest, darkest places of my psyche. I have survived headlong plunges into utter madness and clawing my way back up again. I survived the night I put a loaded, chambered .45 to my head, pushing it so hard against my head it hurt. I don’t know why I put the gun down but the fact is that I did. I survived plans to hang myself. I have survived motorcycle crashes, one of them serious. So, yes, I think the shrink was right. I am a survivor. But now I am trying to more than simply survive… I am trying to thrive.
Over the last few days something has changed within me. It is impossible to
“Desperate times call for desperate measures” or “drastic times call for drastic” measures… I prefer a slight rearrangement of words in these idioms. Desperate times call for drastic measures. For me that is more precise. There comes a time, I would imagine, in everyone’s life when drastic measures are required. The more desperate the situation, the more drastic the measure(s) may need to be to remedy the situation. I cannot speak for everyone, I can only relate my own situation and so this is something of a disclaimer. Everyone knows I’m not a doctor or a shrink, I’m just someone who has dealt with decades of poorly controlled bipolar disorder, depression, rage and anxiety. So, I have a good grasp of what has not worked for me. I’m not claiming that what hasn’t worked for me is universally ineffective, so any litigation-happy pharmaceutical companies can go fuck themselves.
What I’ve noticed
Fair warning: If profanity offends your sensitivities then be forewarned that this is a profanity-laden post. However, it’s a very important post… in fact, I would say that it is the most important post I’ve done on this site. So if you are one of those who are offended by profanity, please set that aside for just long enough to read this post. My emotions were very raw as I wrote it and therefore it is, to say the least, unbridled, unapologetic, and some may even call it confrontational. But when people are losing their lives because others aren’t listening to them on a scale I’ve never seen before, it’s time to put away the niceties and just call it as it is. I’m particularly aiming this post at you, Wise County, Texas and any other place that is so caught up in their radical religious beliefs that meaningful discussion
Disastrous Doctor Visit
I went to see my doctor today. My PCP. I learned he doesn’t believe in psychiatry, mental illness, or anything of the sort. He said my problem was not physical, emotional, or mental. He said it is a “spiritual problem”. That everything I have been suffering for decades is simply because I haven’t chosen Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. Yep. You read that right. When I pointed out that religious beliefs have nothing to do with mental illness and that Christians suffer mental illness on the same level per capita as non-Christians he replied that those who profess to be Christians but “have problems” such as these are merely “church-goers”, not real Christians. Real Christians, according to him, do not experience such problems because Jesus took upon himself all the problems in the world and overcame them on the cross. Obviously, this man has no business
It’s truly astounding just how quickly everything can become truly and utterly fucked up. If anyone is still reading this blog, they’ll have noticed that this is my first post in a very long time. At least it seems like a long time. Like ages. A lot has happened between the last post and this one and I’m trying to think of one part of it all that was good. I’m still alive so that’s good… I suppose. Anyway, I’ve been in what is called “crisis”. I’ve been doing everything I can to stay out of the fucking hospital where they put people that they simply don’t know what to do with. I’ve known people that have gone into those hospitals and I can say from personal observation and stories from those that have been in there that (a.) they don’t help anyone, much less “cure” them and (b.) people
Man, I’m really struggling here… I’ve got a million things on my mind and want to write about them all but every time I begin to type today I see what I’ve written and realize that it probably won’t make any sense at all to readers so I delete and start over. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve deleted and restarted on this post today. It’s extremely difficult to try to convey anything at all in a coherent manner when there are so many disparate topics running through my mind seemingly simultaneously. Religion, sleep, dreams, goals, loneliness: all of these things are on my mind today and I want to write about them all but I don’t want to bore you to tears or end up typing out a saga instead of a blog post. I’ll start with two at the same time since they are related anyway…
Insomnia sucks. Last night I managed to get five hours of sleep and I woke feeling better than I have in weeks. That’s because for the last few weeks I’ve been experiencing insomnia to such a degree that I’m lucky if I get two or three hours of sleep. So, a full five hours felt pretty good. I go in cycles with insomnia. I know it has to do with the whole bipolar BS. The insomnia always comes when the depression is at its worst and it comes again when what I call the energy phase is peaking and lasts right through the rage phase. No amount of breath-counting or meditation works. The only thing that helps is being alone. If there are other people around I can’t sleep at all. What’s worse is that the lack of sleep makes everything seem worse and makes me feel physically bad as