#been seeing a new pdoc since the thing and i am starting to realize that she kinda sucks

[w-rennie]

Getting Started

Hi Tumblr!

I’ve had an account on here for years and I thought.. Well, maybe I can have an account that’s actually for real blogging, like how blogging used to be. For writing, and all of that.

What I wanted to post about is bipolar disorder. I know the internet hates self-diagnosed people, but I’m only self diagnosed because I couldn’t get in to see my psychiatrist for six fucking months.

ANYWAYS.

I’ve been diagnosed with depression since I was roughly 14-ish? That’s when I started going to my pdoc, anyways. It seemed like that was the answer and I had a really hard time with medicine until 2014 when I started Wellbutrin, Wellbutrin was my miracle drug. I lost about half of the weight depression had made me gain in high school. Everything was sunny again. I wanted to go out and do things and while, of course, I had struggles, but things were still so much better.

The last year though.. It’s been rough. My pdoc visits are really just check-ins so I can keep getting my prescription. I’d fibbed some and said things were fine and normal because everyone has highs and lows.. Right? That’s part of life. Some days you hate yourself and some days you think you’re the fucking shit and no one can handle how great you are. .... Right?

I had an appointment with my pdoc in January and had to schedule the next appointment for six months away because I was in trouble for missing so many days of work, EVEN when I had doctor notes. I knew after my one year anniversary, I’d get two more days I could miss and then 5 vacation days. So, even though I really didn’t want to, I thought I was making the right decision. I was wrong.

I have a crazy coworker problem (that’s a whole different story for a different day) and coupling that with moving and stresses and other things.. I felt like I kinda just snapped. I felt like it had been building since February when we moved, but once April hit.. Oh man. I had toyed with the idea of bipolar a year before but had let it go because I wasn’t like my bipolar I friend.. I mean, I spent money I didn’t have (see: credit cards) extremely quick when I was feeling good and happy and I thought that was just normal. I didn’t have the insane mood swings or promiscuous behavior or the drug abuse issues she had, so I didn’t have bipolar, right?

I saw an article about how this woman’s depression sort of morphed into bipolar. In particular, how she had been misdiagnosed with depression when she really had bipolar II. That piqued my interest and I spent probably 5+ hours a day for a straight month finding EVERYTHING I could possibly do to learn more about bipolar. I know those who self diagnose are extremely shunned (or where I’ve seen on the internet, at least) so I’m not trying to walk in like I own the place.. But the puzzle pieces fit bipolar II perfectly. I checked into other things like borderline personality disorder and I’ve already known almost everything there is to know about depression, and those don’t fit like bipolar II do. The more I think on it, the more I realized I’ve been this way for years and just thought it was normal.

I started paying closer attention to my moods and habits and feelings. I have streaks of “ups”, as I like to call them, where I don’t need sleep. I feel super pumped about life and myself. Nothing can stop me. I clean the house nonstop as soon as I finish getting ready for work in the morning until I have to leave for work, then come home, eat dinner, and clean. Sure, I have gym visits and allergy shots between work and coming home.. But I have literally left work early to come home and power clean the entire fucking townhouse. I HAVE LEFT WORK EARLY JUST TO COME HOME TO CLEAN. My anxiety gets high and it’s like a frenzy. I feel like a tornado going everywhere and into everything, all at once. I get hyper. I talk so fast I forget to breathe and can’t stop talking. I budget the fuck out of my finances. And then blow money I don’t have sometimes (???). I get inspired. I take on new tasks and ideas and projects. My diet (I’m trying to lose weight) is impeccable. I am productive in just about every possible way. And sometimes I get insanely hateful out of nowhere. I seriously considered purposefully hitting someone with my car once (and that’s not like me at all. My car is like my own child.) I snap at my fiance. I get irritable and yell and snap at people when I don’t even mean to. I can’t stop going and going and going. My head is racing and I can’t stop my thoughts and I feel like I’m vibrating. I want to be lazy and sit on the couch and sleep in until noon on Sunday but I just CAN’T. I’m wasting my time if I’m not doing anything! There are so many things that can/should be/need to be done! I can’t just waste away my life here sitting in front of a TV! Bills need to be sorted and papers need to be shredded and floors need to be swept and mirrors need to be cleaned and toilets need to be scrubbed and trash needs to be taken out and plastics need to be recycled and laundry needs to be washed and the beds need to be cleaned and the bills need to be paid and and and and and and and!

And then.. There’s the down swings. I’m in bed by 6:30pm. I just go up stairs and lay in bed because watching youtube/Supernatural/Arrow/playing video games just seems pointless. Life has no purpose. The chores don’t get done. I cry.. and I cry.. and I cry. I hate myself. I loathe myself. I despise myself. What would the world be like if I wasn’t here? No one loves me, do they? Whatever my illness is, it’s just a burden on everyone else and I make everyone’s life hard. I consider overdosing on sleeping pills. But I think of my mom and my fiance and my cat and I feel guilty. I couldn’t hurt them like that. But what if I just disappear for awhile? What if I just fold into myself and don’t exist for awhile, so I can give them a rest? A breather? So that they can relax? Wouldn’t that be nice for them, and for me, because I wouldn’t have to exist? But how do I do that? Hint: I can’t. I go to work and I cry in my car. I have to hold a teddy bear in my lap while I drive to feel some kind of comfort. I hide in my cubical and wipe my tears as soon as they fall. It’s allergy season, so they think I’m sniffling because allergies. There is my crazy coworker factor that has made this worse and it’s a big part of some of my issues, too. I cry because I can’t find a new job and I can’t. Fucking. Get. Away. From. HERE!

Good things, though: I found a new job and I start it Monday. I have finally found a counselor with an opening that I see on Monday, too. My visit with my pdoc is about two weeks away (6/26).

I’m in an upswing right now so I cleaned the entire house this morning and reorganized things. I’m trying to tell myself no to cleaning some objects and just leaving things messy, so you’d really never know I was a compulsive cleaner right now. 

I felt normal from 5/26 until about 6/1. I was able to take my time.. I didn’t clean all the time.. My fiance and I have binge watched Supernatural.. We went camping with no cell service and just enjoyed the lake. Nature helped me slow down, I really do think. I’d camp every damn weekend if I could.

Anyways, I just wanted to start this blog so I could get all of this stuff in my head out. My fiance is a wonderful being and listens and tries to understand the best he can but.. He’s never had any kind of mental illness. I’ve been dealing with this for over half of my life now. He tries to understand, but the way he was raised, mental illness is just a cop-out and you need to be a man and get over it. And I get it, I really do. He is truly trying hard to understand it. But I just need people who really get what I’m saying and can fully sympathize.

If you actually read this far, thank you so much. I do appreciate it. 

#bipolar #word vomit