Hell is for children…and the mentally ill

Truth be told, there is nothing excessively traumatic going at the moment. Yeah, I technically don’t own a car anymore and that’s a major bummer and source of stress…But the bills are paid, we have food, and hey, I’m still getting out of bed every day.

Thing is…Even that has become a challenge. Like showering. I haven’t started to totally slip but it’s…pointing in that direction if something isn’t done to head off the seasonal affect disorder. The depression is coming, I can feel it in my bones, even if technically, the status quo is in place so there’s really been no change to cause a depressive state.
THAT is what my charming shrink and all her borderline personality talk has done. I now question myself at every turn, and am filled with self loathing 24-7 because now my brain tells me I’m just a weak personality disorder laden bitch who’d rather pop pills than fix her multitude of flaws.
Logically, I know better. This is MY life and I’ve been on this not so merry go round so long, I know what is my personality and what stems from bipolar and anxiety. The shrink spends five minutes with me once a month via tv screen and she feels qualified to diagnose a personality disorder. That still pisses me off. I never minded it so much when a counselor did it because they spent 50 minutes with me over many sessions to arrive at their conclusions. Being pigeon holed and invalidated by a woman who doesn’t even see me in person and our appointments last five minutes…
Thorn in my paw. Like a giant sword sized thorn.
Thanks to her, I even have to question myself on that one because, ya know, if I am borderline, then wouldn’t denial and outrage be the typical response?
I could buy schizotypal or paranoid, I am packing way too many of the criterion for those even if in my mind, it’s all quite logical based on my experiences.
But borderline? I don’t want to be the center of attention. I loathe drama. What pisses me off on Monday makes me laugh on Friday. I don’t worry about a man cheating on me. Life can be absolute shit but if I am manic, it doesn’t make me come crashing into a depression nor does happiness drag me from a depression. I just read and read more and more about the whole thing and I try to see myself in it, even say I can to appease her…But I truly don’t.
That sort of absolute denial of self fault would be on par with borderline, though, so…
I HATE anyone who makes me doubt myself this much. I question myself constantly to begin with because of the bipolar cycles. To have a doctor, who has never even really had a full session with me and runs on the notes of every doctor I’ve seen before her…It’s insulting.
Or is that hubris?

Mental illness IS Hell. And self doubt is double hell.

Former counselors taught me to recognize the patterns in my mood cycles, to recognize anxiety triggers (especially when there were none.)
Now I have this doctor basically counteracting what I was taught by telling me it’s my personality that is the biggest culprit. Bipolar and borderline mimic each other so closely, and often come hand in hand, I don’t think even the professionals know the difference anymore.

And how can you know if you never spent the time getting a person’s background and work from the notes of another? This was how I ended up misdiagnosed for over ten years. Because my counselors would tell the shrink about the manic and seasonal episodes, but the shrink would stick to the dysthymia diagnosis the shrink before them gave.
It is so frustrating to feel you have so little control over your own treatment because you are locked in this little box someone else made and no one will bother to reopen it and peak inside.

I guess i’m ranting but this has really been nagging my mind for months.

I did however do some research today and there’s a drug called Latuda. While expensive and possibly denied by insurance, the positive reviews overwhelmed the negative to such a degree I am willing to roll the dice if my shrink is. Almost every single review talked about how “I now want to LIVE life instead of just watch it happen.”
THAT is what I have not had in so very long.
I will have good periods, happy days, calm days. But my focus is rarely on the here and now, it’s time traveling in the past, the present, the future. I don’t truly enjoy things, I don’t even really want to. I’ve kind of resigned myself to misery. I used to love to play Monopoly and Uno.
Now, it’s like torture because my mind is everywhere but here.
From all reports, Latuda helps with focus and anxiety as well and has proven quite the magic bullet for those with bipolar 2.
I don’t like the whole nausea if you don’t eat thing (very Lithium) and the reports of being very sleepy or sleeping 12 hours disturb me…
But considering all the crap I have tried, tolerating some ugly side effects while others made me cry uncle…
It just might be worth swallowing my pride, disappointing the shrink with my regression, and take a gamble on something different. It’s not like I ever go into any new med with anything but CAUTIOUS optimism and a jaded spirit.
One can never know what will work.
But the long term reviews on this one,especially from people who listed a plethora of other drugs they’ve tried and have either worked briefly or failed…
Maybe…Just maybe…

At this point, I would lick psychadelic toads to avoid reliving a seasonal depression like last year’s.

Guess the biggest part is gonna be working up the nerve to talk to the doctor. Which means swallowing my pride, rolling my tender emotions in bubblewrap, and making an appointment before my scheduled one in December.
I don’t really want to wait.
But she has me doubting myself so much, I am reluctant to make the call until I am in the ER begging them to sedate me so I don’t drink bleach. Anything less than a psychotic break will just be my personality to her.

It’s a “deer in the headlights” thing.
I know I need to move, I see the car coming my way.
But I am frozen in place knowing at any moment the car is gonna plow into me.

There’s only one thing to do now.
Finish this Mangorita.
It doesn’t solve a thing but it’s like emotional bubblewrap.
How can anyone say bubblewrap is a bad thing?


3 Responses to “Hell is for children…and the mentally ill”

  1. imptiness Says:

    I hear that licking toads is overrated. What you want is frog spawn mixed with alcohol. 😛

  2. This post hit a lot of nerves for me, I could identify with the self doubt, the fears, the “deer in the headlights” feeling.
    I hope you don’t wait until you fall apart to get the help you need (and deserve to get).

  3. Horrible that you and your pdoc are not on the same page. We need to have supportive pdocs, and to have our therapists and pdocs working together rather than at cross-purposes. If you do take Latuda, I’m interested in you writing about your experience. It is true that there is cross-over and confusion about the distinction between BPD and bipolar. As another bipolar type II, I can tell you that I was diagnosed depressed and dysthymic for many, many years before I received the bipolar II / cyclothymic diagnosis. The important thing is: what helps. If DBT helps, do it. If Latuda helps, take it. Do whatever works. Currently treatment is trial and error.

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