Funny thing. Just realized it has been almost a year since I got "the label." How far I have come and how very many changes there have been!
I have struggled with the questions.
To medicate or not to medicate?
To trust my instincts or consider the possibility of bipolar influencing my decisions?
To decide whether something is real or a product or my bipolar brain?
And there are the life changes.
I have gotten a divorce.
Lost my mother.
Found a new love who understands me.
Reconnected with my daughter.
Lost my son.
Lost any semblance of financial stability.
Learned that people are not always what they seem, even when they are very close to you.
Learned that even strangers can be very kind, even when they are just met in passing.
Learned that most people are very accepting and others will use the label against you for their own gain.
I have moved into a new place and am learning to cope with the strange noises and bumps in the night.
I have reconnected with myself - the real me. The independent, kind, energetic me that works too hard, sleeps too little and has an outlook on life that is anything but what might be considered normal.
So in just the space of a year I have found that - wow - I LIKE me.
I've lost some things, but I have gained some things, too.
I have gained self-confidence. And I have gained an acceptance of the idea that some people will never accept the real me while others have been waiting for me to reach this point for a long, long time. I have found that I like being single. I like the freedom of spending my own money, decorating my own house, determining my own activities and answering to myself for mistakes. And it is even better when I get to pat myself on the back for doing something right.
It was a horrible year, but a year of growth that I wouldn't trade for anything in the world.
Know what I would tell anyone who asked for my advice - as if anyone would? I would say - go for it. Go for whatever you want.
Embrace the label and run with it. There is life out there, and it is a good one. All you have to do is make it happen.
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Thursday, May 23, 2013
Divorce, Bipolar style
Well, this-on again, off-again virtual confessional is back on again, but this time with some advice for bipolars AND those who are what might commonly be referred to as "normal." (Is anyone ever really normal?)
This is a crash course in divorce for the uninitiated. And it starts long, long before the relationship begins to crumble. It is for men as well as women. It is what I really, really wish that someone had told me before I ever initiated divorce proceedings because I might have salvaged something out of 29 years of marriage besides heartache and a battered old truck. I made every mistake in the book financially, and it had nothing to do with bipolar. It was sheer stupidity on my part.
Note to self - don't go Catholic on myself. (I have a friend who is sure that my ever-pervasive sense of guilt is due to my Catholic upbringing. He may be right or he may not be right, but the term is pretty accurate about that bipolar habit of feeling inadequate and blaming oneself for everything that goes wrong.)
So, back to the point here - what did I learn?
Number 1. If you have a prenup, that is a good thing, but there are still a lot of things to avoid. Like maybe not thinking about making sure that whatever you bring into the marriage is protected? For example, I brought a house into the marriage, but moved in with my husband. When the house finally sold, the money from the house went into a joint account. I never saw a penny of it. When things started to go South, the money wound up going into qa vehicle for him and the mortgage on the place where we lived, including a business we ran together. Not so bad, right? That has to have paid the mortgage down, right? That's a good thing, right?
Move to number two.
2. WRONG. Because the money was co-mingled (put in a joint account), it was now considered money that belonged to both of us. So I should have half, right?
Move to number three.
3. WRONG. He brought the house and business into the marriage... and although I donated every cent I made to the upkeep of the place, I neglected to make sure of one very important item. I didn't check to see that he had put my name on the deed. And he hadn't. So everything I brought into the marriage was gone, and everything that I had contributed to our joint business was gone. And there is more.
4. Retirement accounts are considered something that is an asset that can be divided between the two spouses. And at least one state (New York) considers that a spouse who helped to send another to school to earn a degree is entitled to half of all future earnings. Remember that, folks. Fortunately, inheritances that you might get in the future are off-limits, but if you have a monetary inheritance while you are married you can't let them be co-mingled. Keep them in a separate account. Keep his or her name off the deed if the inheritance is property, and don't let stocks or bonds go in both names if you want them to be considered only yours. So what else can go wrong? Move on to number five.
5. Never trust your counselor. We went to marriage therapy and my therapist told my husband that I was going to ask for a divorce. Result? He went to see a lawyer, moved the money from the joint accounts and refused every single compromise I offered. Where was the honest ad ethical man I married? So....
6. Hardest lesson of all. Never trust the person you previously trusted with your life. When material possessions - or kids or pets or anticipated futures or lost dreams or whatever - enter the picture, everything gets skewed. Trying to be a nice guy and to be fair only gets you burned. So.....
7. Lucky seven, the final number. Don't get burned. Be smart. Be proactive. Do a prenup. Keep your money separate. And no matter how in love you are, remember those divorce statistics and keep one eye open while you are kissing the love of your life, just so you don't get stabbed in the back while you aren't looking.
And as for my now ex and me? I hope things will get better. I hope he will return to being the kind, generous man that he was. I hope we can someday be friends again. I hope I can get over having to start over from scratch because I acted with my heart instead of my head. Mostly, I hope that someone out there sees this and acts on it. It isn't a matter of not trusting someone. It is a matter of simply taking precautions - like wearing a seat belt or setting up a home security system.
Peace out, all. Life will be good again.
This is a crash course in divorce for the uninitiated. And it starts long, long before the relationship begins to crumble. It is for men as well as women. It is what I really, really wish that someone had told me before I ever initiated divorce proceedings because I might have salvaged something out of 29 years of marriage besides heartache and a battered old truck. I made every mistake in the book financially, and it had nothing to do with bipolar. It was sheer stupidity on my part.
Note to self - don't go Catholic on myself. (I have a friend who is sure that my ever-pervasive sense of guilt is due to my Catholic upbringing. He may be right or he may not be right, but the term is pretty accurate about that bipolar habit of feeling inadequate and blaming oneself for everything that goes wrong.)
So, back to the point here - what did I learn?
Number 1. If you have a prenup, that is a good thing, but there are still a lot of things to avoid. Like maybe not thinking about making sure that whatever you bring into the marriage is protected? For example, I brought a house into the marriage, but moved in with my husband. When the house finally sold, the money from the house went into a joint account. I never saw a penny of it. When things started to go South, the money wound up going into qa vehicle for him and the mortgage on the place where we lived, including a business we ran together. Not so bad, right? That has to have paid the mortgage down, right? That's a good thing, right?
Move to number two.
2. WRONG. Because the money was co-mingled (put in a joint account), it was now considered money that belonged to both of us. So I should have half, right?
Move to number three.
3. WRONG. He brought the house and business into the marriage... and although I donated every cent I made to the upkeep of the place, I neglected to make sure of one very important item. I didn't check to see that he had put my name on the deed. And he hadn't. So everything I brought into the marriage was gone, and everything that I had contributed to our joint business was gone. And there is more.
4. Retirement accounts are considered something that is an asset that can be divided between the two spouses. And at least one state (New York) considers that a spouse who helped to send another to school to earn a degree is entitled to half of all future earnings. Remember that, folks. Fortunately, inheritances that you might get in the future are off-limits, but if you have a monetary inheritance while you are married you can't let them be co-mingled. Keep them in a separate account. Keep his or her name off the deed if the inheritance is property, and don't let stocks or bonds go in both names if you want them to be considered only yours. So what else can go wrong? Move on to number five.
5. Never trust your counselor. We went to marriage therapy and my therapist told my husband that I was going to ask for a divorce. Result? He went to see a lawyer, moved the money from the joint accounts and refused every single compromise I offered. Where was the honest ad ethical man I married? So....
6. Hardest lesson of all. Never trust the person you previously trusted with your life. When material possessions - or kids or pets or anticipated futures or lost dreams or whatever - enter the picture, everything gets skewed. Trying to be a nice guy and to be fair only gets you burned. So.....
7. Lucky seven, the final number. Don't get burned. Be smart. Be proactive. Do a prenup. Keep your money separate. And no matter how in love you are, remember those divorce statistics and keep one eye open while you are kissing the love of your life, just so you don't get stabbed in the back while you aren't looking.
And as for my now ex and me? I hope things will get better. I hope he will return to being the kind, generous man that he was. I hope we can someday be friends again. I hope I can get over having to start over from scratch because I acted with my heart instead of my head. Mostly, I hope that someone out there sees this and acts on it. It isn't a matter of not trusting someone. It is a matter of simply taking precautions - like wearing a seat belt or setting up a home security system.
Peace out, all. Life will be good again.
Wednesday, March 27, 2013
The New Path
Life has taken a few turns, partly because of my brand-new companion, the ever-present bipolar, and partly just because life has a way of making changes.
After 29 years, my husband and I have decided to part ways. He is a good man, a kind man, and I think we have made each others lives better by sharing them, but it seems that now that I have a name for my behavior and I know that it is not what might be considered normal it is harder to live with. This was my choice and not his and it was a very personal thing for me so I won't dwell on that.
What I will say is that I learned how very difficult it is to deal with stress while battling this. My husband has many health problems - seems when we hit this age we all do - and his blood pressure was up and down, his sleeping patterns suffered, and he was a wreck. I was, too - not physically, but mentally. Never one prone to depression, it seemed I would break into tears at the drop of a hat, leaving everyone wondering what they should say or do.
It was not a fun time. Having to walk on eggshells around someone never is.
But it is nearly over. Our divorce will be finalized on April 11. Funny - our 29th anniversary will be on March 31. We plan to celebrate the good times and put the bad ones behind us.
More importantly, we plan to continue to be the best of friends. And that is essential. I want the best for him, even if in the future it is not walking the same path as I will walk. He deserves that much.
This blog is going to take a different turn from here on out.
Instead of concentrating only on personal issues, I want to scour the Web for the latest information, share it here... open it up for anyone to discuss issues... watch it evolve into something that will have value to someone besides me.
Oh, my... one of those psychologists would read that and shout out that I am having feelings of grandiosity and must watch out for mania, wouldn't they?
Ever feel as if you might have had someone start to get worried because you laugh too long or talk to fast, feel the need to exercise or aren't hungry?
Odd that normal behavior takes on dark connotations when you have a label.
After 29 years, my husband and I have decided to part ways. He is a good man, a kind man, and I think we have made each others lives better by sharing them, but it seems that now that I have a name for my behavior and I know that it is not what might be considered normal it is harder to live with. This was my choice and not his and it was a very personal thing for me so I won't dwell on that.
What I will say is that I learned how very difficult it is to deal with stress while battling this. My husband has many health problems - seems when we hit this age we all do - and his blood pressure was up and down, his sleeping patterns suffered, and he was a wreck. I was, too - not physically, but mentally. Never one prone to depression, it seemed I would break into tears at the drop of a hat, leaving everyone wondering what they should say or do.
It was not a fun time. Having to walk on eggshells around someone never is.
But it is nearly over. Our divorce will be finalized on April 11. Funny - our 29th anniversary will be on March 31. We plan to celebrate the good times and put the bad ones behind us.
More importantly, we plan to continue to be the best of friends. And that is essential. I want the best for him, even if in the future it is not walking the same path as I will walk. He deserves that much.
This blog is going to take a different turn from here on out.
Instead of concentrating only on personal issues, I want to scour the Web for the latest information, share it here... open it up for anyone to discuss issues... watch it evolve into something that will have value to someone besides me.
Oh, my... one of those psychologists would read that and shout out that I am having feelings of grandiosity and must watch out for mania, wouldn't they?
Ever feel as if you might have had someone start to get worried because you laugh too long or talk to fast, feel the need to exercise or aren't hungry?
Odd that normal behavior takes on dark connotations when you have a label.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Coming to Terms
As you can see, it has been a while since I last posted. There is a reason for that. I have had to come to terms with the creature within me. The Bipolar creature... but more importantly... the Knowledge creature.
That's right. The Knowledge creature. Knowing that all of the things I was were because of something living inside of me - something that I didn't have a clue existed. And once I realized that those things were a real part of me, were really something and that I didn't have to hide it or run from it or medicate it - well, it took a while, but once I reached that point I realized that I LIKE who I am. I really like me. And that is a good thing.
I didn't need the medications.
I promised to tell what those did to me, didn't I? It has been long enough ago that I barely remember what they did.
I know that I had headaches.
Memory problems. Couldn't teach.
Vivid dreams - in living color, and so real I could not tell what was and was not real.
I entered a depression - very unusual for me.
I was dizzy. Nauseous.
I felt numb.
And I could go on and on and on, but instead - I just quit.
Went to a doctor and had a complete physical to rule out any physical reason for my behavior. And then I went on with life.
I didn't hide what I had. Instead I read everything I could on it. I read self-help books, books on medications, books on behavior, books on therapy, books on brain imaging. I read blogs. Searched the Internet for answers. And I finally found an answer in my own heart.
I use my life - my bipolar that is such a part of me - as a teaching tool.
I incorporate a discussion of the poets and writers that were so creative and were either diagnosed during their lifetimes, or in many cases, suspected to have had it, but missed being diagnosed because they have been dead a century or two or four.
I don't back off from mentioning symptoms - that I tend to have auditory and olfactory hallucinations, that sometimes I see things that are not there. That I might not interpret facial expressions or even remember faces. That I am a little ADHD, a bit OCD, a lot ICD, and have so many other alphabet letters along side the bipolar that the educational letters are totally obscured.
I am available if students want to talk - since I have been so open about it, many of my students discuss their own diagnoses with me. I can't give advice, but I can commiserate, and we have formed a bit of a support group. Together we are trying to address the stigma, to change the focus to the positive aspects.
There are many.
We are at the forefront of an evolutionary process. We are perceptive... empathetic. We rise to the occasion when there is a crisis. We have more energy than most people. We get things done. And yes, while there is a down side - we are also quite capable of reaching heights that are unimaginable to most people.
Reach them we will, in spite of ourselves.
Or just maybe - because of ourselves.
So now - the blog needs to evolve, to develop a focus. Watch for the next post, and feel free to offer any input on what you would like to see discussed.
That's right. The Knowledge creature. Knowing that all of the things I was were because of something living inside of me - something that I didn't have a clue existed. And once I realized that those things were a real part of me, were really something and that I didn't have to hide it or run from it or medicate it - well, it took a while, but once I reached that point I realized that I LIKE who I am. I really like me. And that is a good thing.
I didn't need the medications.
I promised to tell what those did to me, didn't I? It has been long enough ago that I barely remember what they did.
I know that I had headaches.
Memory problems. Couldn't teach.
Vivid dreams - in living color, and so real I could not tell what was and was not real.
I entered a depression - very unusual for me.
I was dizzy. Nauseous.
I felt numb.
And I could go on and on and on, but instead - I just quit.
Went to a doctor and had a complete physical to rule out any physical reason for my behavior. And then I went on with life.
I didn't hide what I had. Instead I read everything I could on it. I read self-help books, books on medications, books on behavior, books on therapy, books on brain imaging. I read blogs. Searched the Internet for answers. And I finally found an answer in my own heart.
I use my life - my bipolar that is such a part of me - as a teaching tool.
I incorporate a discussion of the poets and writers that were so creative and were either diagnosed during their lifetimes, or in many cases, suspected to have had it, but missed being diagnosed because they have been dead a century or two or four.
I don't back off from mentioning symptoms - that I tend to have auditory and olfactory hallucinations, that sometimes I see things that are not there. That I might not interpret facial expressions or even remember faces. That I am a little ADHD, a bit OCD, a lot ICD, and have so many other alphabet letters along side the bipolar that the educational letters are totally obscured.
I am available if students want to talk - since I have been so open about it, many of my students discuss their own diagnoses with me. I can't give advice, but I can commiserate, and we have formed a bit of a support group. Together we are trying to address the stigma, to change the focus to the positive aspects.
There are many.
We are at the forefront of an evolutionary process. We are perceptive... empathetic. We rise to the occasion when there is a crisis. We have more energy than most people. We get things done. And yes, while there is a down side - we are also quite capable of reaching heights that are unimaginable to most people.
Reach them we will, in spite of ourselves.
Or just maybe - because of ourselves.
So now - the blog needs to evolve, to develop a focus. Watch for the next post, and feel free to offer any input on what you would like to see discussed.
Sunday, October 14, 2012
It's been a while since I have posted. There is a reason for that. Went to the psychiatrist, as promised. And I feel cheated. Pushed. Ramrodded. Manipulated. And stupid.
Stupid for not standing up for myself.
Stupid for allowing myself to be manipulated.
Stupid for trusting a government agency to know what was best for me in spite of all my research, all my study.
When I walked in the psychiatrist smiled, asked my symptoms - most of which I suddenly found I couldn't remember - and asked when I had been diagnosed. I told him the truth - that I hadn't actually been and thought that was his job. He smiled a nice, condescending smile and immediately began to talk about what medication I should be on. I insisted on two things - I had to be able to think, and I didn't want anything that would affect my memory.
I wound up walking out with prescriptions for Lamictal and Haldol, the latter prescribed to "cure" the insomnia that the former would cause. Rather an ominous sign.
Dropped the prescriptions off at the pharmacy and went to review the meds before actually taking anything. What I read horrified me. The Lamictal didn't look too bad - it was an anticonvulsant, the side effects seemed mild, it seemed to target depression more than mania but was used as a maintenance drug and studies showed that most people tolerated it well. The Haldol was another story. It was an older anti psychotic, and the side effects were - well, for me they would have been intolerable. As I read, I discovered that it was seldom prescribed any more. I called the pharmacy and told them to hold filling that prescription. After talking to the pharmacist - who seemed to be offended that I would question the psychiatrist - I settled on the addition of an OTC sleep remedy, melatonin. Melatonin, she assured me, would be quite safe and would not interact with the Lamictal.
I wasn't comfortable with the medication, but had promised that I would give it a fair shot to see what happened. So, that night, with trepidation I took a quarter of a 150 mg tablet of Lamictal and a melatonin pill. How bad could that little dose get?
I was about to find out.
Stupid for not standing up for myself.
Stupid for allowing myself to be manipulated.
Stupid for trusting a government agency to know what was best for me in spite of all my research, all my study.
When I walked in the psychiatrist smiled, asked my symptoms - most of which I suddenly found I couldn't remember - and asked when I had been diagnosed. I told him the truth - that I hadn't actually been and thought that was his job. He smiled a nice, condescending smile and immediately began to talk about what medication I should be on. I insisted on two things - I had to be able to think, and I didn't want anything that would affect my memory.
I wound up walking out with prescriptions for Lamictal and Haldol, the latter prescribed to "cure" the insomnia that the former would cause. Rather an ominous sign.
Dropped the prescriptions off at the pharmacy and went to review the meds before actually taking anything. What I read horrified me. The Lamictal didn't look too bad - it was an anticonvulsant, the side effects seemed mild, it seemed to target depression more than mania but was used as a maintenance drug and studies showed that most people tolerated it well. The Haldol was another story. It was an older anti psychotic, and the side effects were - well, for me they would have been intolerable. As I read, I discovered that it was seldom prescribed any more. I called the pharmacy and told them to hold filling that prescription. After talking to the pharmacist - who seemed to be offended that I would question the psychiatrist - I settled on the addition of an OTC sleep remedy, melatonin. Melatonin, she assured me, would be quite safe and would not interact with the Lamictal.
I wasn't comfortable with the medication, but had promised that I would give it a fair shot to see what happened. So, that night, with trepidation I took a quarter of a 150 mg tablet of Lamictal and a melatonin pill. How bad could that little dose get?
I was about to find out.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Being Me
Okay. I'm not going to be able to be fixed. But in order to be fixed, something has to be broken. I just don't feel like I am broken, even though I keep hearing that I am. I hear that I have an illness. A disease. A genetic abnormality. A disorder.
But I don't think those words fit. Disease means something that has invaded and causes problems. A cold is a disease that is considered an illness. It makes you miserable until it is over and done with. Syphilis is a disease. Cancer is a disease. They maim and kill. A genetic abnormality isn't a disease... it is something that you are born with, something that is in your makeup. And a disorder indicates something out of whack somewhere.
But this is different.
Who wouldn't want something that makes you feel good? Something that increases energy and creativity and productivity? Something that makes people like to be around you, that makes you happy? Something that gives you the courage to do things that other people can't, or won't?
So in that respect, this is a gift.
William Blake.
Wordsworth.
Schumann.
Georgia O'Keefe.
Gaugin.
Herman Hesse.
Hemingway.
Michelangelo.
Mark Twain.
Hans Christian Anderson.
Graham Greene.
Theodore Roethke.
Walt Whitman.
And a multitude of others.
All have - or had - this same gift.
I am in good company.
Don't try to fix me. I am not broken. I am different, unique, one of a kind. And I demand to be respected for my differences. I demand not to be treated as if I am diseased. I demand the right to privacy, the right to think and speak as I wish, the right to chart my own course in life. I demand the right to live and to exercise my free will.
I demand the right to have my life back.
But I don't think those words fit. Disease means something that has invaded and causes problems. A cold is a disease that is considered an illness. It makes you miserable until it is over and done with. Syphilis is a disease. Cancer is a disease. They maim and kill. A genetic abnormality isn't a disease... it is something that you are born with, something that is in your makeup. And a disorder indicates something out of whack somewhere.
But this is different.
Who wouldn't want something that makes you feel good? Something that increases energy and creativity and productivity? Something that makes people like to be around you, that makes you happy? Something that gives you the courage to do things that other people can't, or won't?
So in that respect, this is a gift.
William Blake.
Wordsworth.
Schumann.
Georgia O'Keefe.
Gaugin.
Herman Hesse.
Hemingway.
Michelangelo.
Mark Twain.
Hans Christian Anderson.
Graham Greene.
Theodore Roethke.
Walt Whitman.
And a multitude of others.
All have - or had - this same gift.
I am in good company.
Don't try to fix me. I am not broken. I am different, unique, one of a kind. And I demand to be respected for my differences. I demand not to be treated as if I am diseased. I demand the right to privacy, the right to think and speak as I wish, the right to chart my own course in life. I demand the right to live and to exercise my free will.
I demand the right to have my life back.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Starting the Journey
The first visit with a therapist was interesting. My husband went in first to set background information, and 40 minutes later I was invited in. I was surprised that his visit took so long. He must have had a lot to say.
I knew a little bit about what to expect. Since I first found out what was going on I had searched for everything I could read about it. Much of the information was very basic - symptoms, treatments, etc. Some of it included personal experiences. Those ran the gamut - some were very well written and yielded valuable insight. Some were not, and made me wonder if I ever sounded like those people. I suppose it is possible that I, too, may have been incoherent during a manic episode.
The therapist was very young, wore black leggings and a tunic top and had wild, curly red hair and a rather distracted air about her. She looked young enough to have been one of my students. I was glad that I had done the research before seeing the therapist as I was able to come in with some idea of what the questions were going to be. Still, something seems to have backfired as she became more agitated and excited during the interview, and that, in turn, made me nervous and I am sure I said some things that were not true or that I did not mean. I tried to be as honest as possible, but I am not sure that this is going to be the therapist for me. I would prefer someone who is calm and professional. This girl had a habit of playing with her glasses and leaning far enough forward in her chair to invade my space, an action I have always felt was quite rude although it has never really bothered me as I realize that some people will try to do that to create an atmosphere of closeness. In this case I suspected that she was looking to see if I would move away or otherwise be uncomfortable.
I have an appointment with a psychiatrist next and hope that things will go a little more smoothly.
In the meantime, I am still reading and researching, trying to understand exactly what is going on in my head, exactly what the technical terms mean when they are bandied about, and determined to have a handle on what is going to happen.
I am looking at alternatives to medication, and have begun keeping a journal to be sure to monitor and understand my own behavior and my own triggers for manic episodes.
Quite honestly, I like the manic episodes as long as they are controlled and don't go so high that I get in trouble. I like the energy, the clarity of thought, and the accomplishments. I also prefer not to sleep for eight or nine hours and have been herded off to bed at 9 p.m. every evening since I have been labeled with this problem. I have trouble getting all my work done with so many hours spent stuck in bed, and I wake up dragging instead of bouncing with energy. I dont like the feeling.
A good friend told me to wait before answering anything, and to think my responses and actions through instead of going on impulse and emotion. I think that is very good advice and will work on that. Keeping a journal to help me recognize when I have a mood swing will also help me to control those. I believe that is called cognitive-behavior therapy, and I will push for at least a trial with that instead of going to medication immediately.
I knew a little bit about what to expect. Since I first found out what was going on I had searched for everything I could read about it. Much of the information was very basic - symptoms, treatments, etc. Some of it included personal experiences. Those ran the gamut - some were very well written and yielded valuable insight. Some were not, and made me wonder if I ever sounded like those people. I suppose it is possible that I, too, may have been incoherent during a manic episode.
The therapist was very young, wore black leggings and a tunic top and had wild, curly red hair and a rather distracted air about her. She looked young enough to have been one of my students. I was glad that I had done the research before seeing the therapist as I was able to come in with some idea of what the questions were going to be. Still, something seems to have backfired as she became more agitated and excited during the interview, and that, in turn, made me nervous and I am sure I said some things that were not true or that I did not mean. I tried to be as honest as possible, but I am not sure that this is going to be the therapist for me. I would prefer someone who is calm and professional. This girl had a habit of playing with her glasses and leaning far enough forward in her chair to invade my space, an action I have always felt was quite rude although it has never really bothered me as I realize that some people will try to do that to create an atmosphere of closeness. In this case I suspected that she was looking to see if I would move away or otherwise be uncomfortable.
I have an appointment with a psychiatrist next and hope that things will go a little more smoothly.
In the meantime, I am still reading and researching, trying to understand exactly what is going on in my head, exactly what the technical terms mean when they are bandied about, and determined to have a handle on what is going to happen.
I am looking at alternatives to medication, and have begun keeping a journal to be sure to monitor and understand my own behavior and my own triggers for manic episodes.
Quite honestly, I like the manic episodes as long as they are controlled and don't go so high that I get in trouble. I like the energy, the clarity of thought, and the accomplishments. I also prefer not to sleep for eight or nine hours and have been herded off to bed at 9 p.m. every evening since I have been labeled with this problem. I have trouble getting all my work done with so many hours spent stuck in bed, and I wake up dragging instead of bouncing with energy. I dont like the feeling.
A good friend told me to wait before answering anything, and to think my responses and actions through instead of going on impulse and emotion. I think that is very good advice and will work on that. Keeping a journal to help me recognize when I have a mood swing will also help me to control those. I believe that is called cognitive-behavior therapy, and I will push for at least a trial with that instead of going to medication immediately.
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