Oy.

Most people, including myself, would say that I am normal and happy 99.9% of the time.  But there are days, like today, when I am frustrated and a bit upset.

There aren't many of these days lately (thank God!), but there still are some.  I was having a pretty good day today until I went to see my psychiatrist.  He is a very nice, smart man. I will say that.  And I actually like him, which is tough for many people to say about their psychiatrists, I'm sure.  But, Dr. M, we'll call him, is so unbelievably slow that I can't stand it sometimes.

I have been seeing Dr. M for almost 3 years which, sad for me to admit, is the longest time I've ever been with any one psychiatrist.  He is a character, but then so am I, so we work pretty well together. 

Dr. M recently moved offices.  Well technically I moved where I see him.  I used to see him at his office right down the street from where I live, but he decided not to see patients there anymore, and he has two other offices, so he suggested that I go to one of his other ones if I still wanted to see him.  And I do.  He's a very good doctor, and he's funny and we get along well.  But sometimes he annoys me so much that all I can say is "oy".  And I'm not Jewish.

He was very slow today, and was in some sort of mood, and not only did I not get called back until 30 minutes after my scheduled appointment, but I was also in his office for an hour.  I've never, ever been in his office for that long.  He was fixing my chart, then fiddling around on the computer, asking me questions here and there, staring at me oddly, sticking his tongue out at me, and saying weird things to me for so much of the time that I finally said (when he still had his tongue out) "Seriously?! Can you stop looking at me like that?!  You're giving me a complex!"  So he smiled and went on to do something else.

Last time I went to see him (which was my first time at his new office), he was strange, but not as bad, so I just didn't do much talking and just fidgeted a lot until the visit was over.  I just wanted to get out of there because he was frustrating me and being weird then, too. 

Today, he left my chart open and left the room to tell the office people something, so I casually glanced at what he had written about me last time. (I know we're not supposed to do that, but I figured 'what the hell, it's MY chart.')  He had written that I told him I was good, but that he observed that I was anxious and irritable. 

It bothers me that as a psychiatric patient (which I will always be because I have Bipolar and it isn't going away anytime soon), I am more judged by my actions than a person with a medical illness.  There is a reason why I seemed anxious and irritable last time.  It was HIM!  He was being crazy, and so I was didn't speak much and was fidgety.  But, he didn't write that, did he?!  I can only imagine what he'll write about me after today!  LOL

As a person with a mental illness, I feel judged most of the time by people that know that I have Bipolar.  But I shouldn't be.  Most aspects of myself are NOT a result of me having Bipolar.  Sometimes I am fidgety.  I ALWAYS like to do things quickly.  Most of the time, I want everything done my way (don't we all?).  Sometimes I say things I shouldn't say (speak my mind).  And I am almost always loud and sometimes obnoxious.  But most of those have absolutley NOTHING to do with me having Bipolar.  Those are just aspects of my personality.  And they should be taken as such.  Like when I am really happy, I don't want people to think that I'm hypo-manic and need to be "dealt with" or some other phrase people use.  Can't a girl just be happy sometimes?  And when I'm having a bad day or become easily frustrated or upset, I'm not depressed.  I'm just frustrated or upset.  These are normal human emotions.  And they should be taken as such.

My doctor knows that if I am terribly depressed, I will check myself into the hospital to keep myself safe.  We have an agreement, and I have done that once before.  And I really do feel like he "gets" me.  Even though he is a crazy ass.

So I have questions for all of you with mental illnesses, or who know someone with a mental illness. 

How do YOU get along with your mental health professionals, namely psychiatrist or therapist?

And, do YOU ever feel like people judge you for simply having a normal emotion, like I described above?

My First Half-Marathon!

I LOVE to run!!!

It is my stress release, it helps with my bipolar disorder, and is a great way to get (and stay) fit!

I started a walk-to-run program while in physical therapy after having surgery on my knee in July of 2012, and I have been addicted to runnig ever since :)

I started out only being able to walk for a little while, like 30 mins, on a really low speed on the treadmill at my gym, and now I can run 10 miles!

I will definitely write more about my love of running in later posts, but I wanted to let everyone know that I am doing my first-ever Half-Marathon on October 20, 2013, in Hershey, PA!  I'm super excited and can't wait for October! 

Even though I can't register until Wednesday, I was able to set up a fundraising page today.  I can do what I love (run) while getting support for sick children in Pennsylvania in the Children's Miracle Network!  It's a win-win situation!

If you'd like to support the kids and sponsor me, here is the link:
www.pennstatehersheycmn.org/campaign/megsfirsthalf

Thanks in advance for your support!

NAMI Walks (with link that you can click on ;)

Here is the link that you can actually click on...sorry about that!
www.namimd.org/get_involved

It is on May 18, 2013, with registration beginning at 10am, and the walk beginning at 11am!

NAMI Walks

Hey everyone! NAMI Maryland asked me to get the word out about their annual fundraising event called NAMI Walks! Here is the link: www.namimd.org/get_involved
I will not be able to attend the event this year, but I have heard that it is a wonderful event that gets the word out about various mental illnesses and raises money to help fund research and treatment for mental illnesses!
Please go if you can, and have a blast! :)

About Bipolar Disorder

Thought I should let you know what Bipolar Disorder is, so you know what the heck I'm talking about here!
Here is a link to the website I trust the most to tell you about Bipolar Disorder- NAMI. 
NAMI stands for National Alliance on Mental Illness, and is probably the most comprehensive website I can think of on this issue. 
I have included only the link that shows you exactly what Bipolar looks like...the symptoms and recovery, but www.nami.org gives a wealth of information on everything related to this disorder, as well as other mental illnesses.  Here is the link:
http://www.nami.org/Content/NavigationMenu/Mental_Illnesses/Bipolar1/Home_-_What_is_Bipolar_Disorder_.htm

I have Bipolar II, which generally means that I do not experience the full-blown mania (which I am eternally grateful for).  I have only ever experienced hypo-mania, which is an increased sense of self, grandiosity, "I am on top of the world and can do anything" feeling , high-anxiety type of mania.  It is not as bad as full-blown mania, but has caused me to make many bad decisions and think that I could handle anything, though I couldn't. 

With Bipolar II, individuals usually experience more depression than hypo-mania, and I have been told by many of my doctors that the depression side in Bipolar II patients is what leads them most often to have suicidal thinking and lands them in the hospital, more than the hypo-mania side.

These things have only been my experience as well. 

Kind Words

A wonderful thing happened yesterday!  Soon after I wrote my "About Me" posts, I put the link up on my facebook page, and, to my surprise, got a message from one of my old friends from the conservative church I went to.  In her message, she asked me to forgive her for any times that I may have felt judged by her for being gay. 

She told me that she is a different person now, and she knows that "God loves you just the way you are and He always has. He did create you to be gay and I believe there is a wonderful plan in that, where he will use you for his glory :) I'm so happy to see you mentally healthy and happy, I admire that very much. Take care friend."  I must say that I never expected that from anyone from my old church, but I am very thankful to my friend for saying that.

It truly means the world to me to have you accept me as I am, friend :)  Thank you for your kind words.

About Me: FInding Love, Fearing Love & Myself, and Doing Better (Part 3)

Finding Love.  In 2007, I hadn't even been thinking about finding love, but she found me <3  If you haven't already figured it out, I guess now would be a good time to let you know that I am gay.  I've known that I was a lesbian since I was 19 years old.  HOWEVER, at about that time, I began trying to find acceptance in a new church family, a very conservative church family, I might add.  Like I said, I KNEW, but I was terribly afraid of what others (especially my mother and family, and church family) would think.  On several occasions, I sat my parents (mother and step-father) down and told them that I thought that I was a lesbian, and they were somewhat supportive, but thought that this, like everything else in my life, was just a phase. I would always call the next day and tell them that I, in fact, was NOT a lesbian, and was sorry I had worried them.  And, I had confided in a few of my church "friends" that I was struggling with being a lesbian and they always suggested that I basically "pray the gay away"...many of them even prayed very hard with me and for me.  When I would tell them that I was still thinking I was a lesbian and it wasn't going away, they just told me to pray harder.  Not any acceptance there.  I went to that church for seven long years, and finally left in 2007 because I just didn't want to go anymore, and didn't want to have to "pray away the gay" anymore.  But I still knew I was going to Hell because of my feelings and thoughts.  A "friend" of mine, who had left the church, too, was becoming my very best friend and I talked with her every day.  She was the only friend I had now that I had left the church.  She was going to another church, and when I confided in her many times that I was gay and didn't know what to do, she suggested I talk with her new pastor.  He told me about this organization called Exodus International, where gay people attend meetings, have counseling, and essentially actually do "pray the gay away" and become "ex-gay".  This is my answer, I thought.  I complied and started counseling with one of the leaders in a group near where I lived (an ex-gay himself, who was now "happily" married with four kids).  The counseling went on for the summer of 2007, and then he asked me if I wanted to join their "Living Waters" program, where you study the scriptures of the Bible, meet with people, and pray that God would take away your "sin".  Once again, I complied and went to the first meeting in the basement of a house that Exodus owned.  Almost immediately, I saw a very pretty woman, and felt attracted to her!  I thought "Well, this sure isn't going to work".  I left there, and never went back, but I still knew that I was going to Hell.  I just didn't know what to do with these feelings.

So, I definitely wasn't looking to fall in love, much less with another woman.  In the fall of 2007, I was working at Target as a cashier, and Stacey kept coming in to see the friends that she used to work with who still worked there.  She kept coming through my line, and tells me that she was definitely attracted to me and wanted to get to know me better. In December, she came through my line and gave me a note that said that she wanted to be my friend, and wrote her phone number on the paper so I could give her a call.  I did call her later that day and we went on our first "date" the next day.  Only, I didn't know that it was a date.  She really liked me, and I was so oblivious to that fact (and scared of me actually being a lesbian), that I just brushed her off when she asked if she could hang out with me again or call me.  I was totally freaking out!

To make a long story shorter, we ended up moving in together after dating for four months, and we were engaged after eight and a half months of dating.  I had to work through SO much shit about me being a lesbian and being in love with another woman, and had SO much anxiety, craziness and Bipolar everything happening then, but Stacey stood by my side, and as she says "always saw the good in me", and helped me work through everything.  I was mean.  I yelled.  I threw things.  I went from zero to sixty in about two seconds.  I was super anxious and couldn't even eat sometimes.  I stopped working because I was searing in pain and would freak out every time I had to deal with anything other than my anxiety.  I pushed both of us to our limits.  I did terrible things.  I apologized all the time, and then did the same thing again.  Then I apologized again.  It was horrible.  Simply horrible.  But she stayed.  She loved me, and I loved her, and that's all we knew.  We broke up so many times and then got back together.  We just knew that we couldn't live without eachother.  So, I worked through all of my stuff with her help, and we got married on December 6, 2009.  But, my Bipolar had gotten really bad.  I kept working on it, Stacey kept staying and her unfailing and unconditional love is the main reason I am who I am today. 

We have been together for over five years, and been married for over three, and we are happier now than we've ever been before! 

I will leave you with all three of these posts (I know I rambled), and write more about how I actually live well with Bipolar (the whole reason for this blog!) at another time.  Hope you enjoyed my history... :)

About Me: Suicide Attempts, Hospitalizations, and God (Part 2)

In the summer of my middle school to high school transition, I basically hit a wall. I had been going to therapy since the age of six, but I never really talked, so I had kept all of my feelings inside. That pretty much led to depression, and I attempted suicide that summer. My mother and step-father drove me to the hospital, where I had to drink disgusting charcoal to soak up the extra Tylenol I had ingested a few hours before. I spent a week at a juvenile psychiatric hospital, and went home, just to keep it all in again and get even more depressed. I was diagnosed with Major Depression, and I had no idea that I was also Bipolar, and that's why my moods were so erratic (my mother would always tell me that she felt like she was "walking on eggshells" around me. Now I know that she felt like that partly because of our tumultuous relationship, and partly because of my Bipolar Disorder rearing it's ugly head.)

The next thirteen years (that's right, thirteen) were filled with many more suicide attempts (repeated massive overdoses and I shot myself in the chest in 2004 as well), at least a dozen hospitalizations (in adult psychiatric facilites), and trying a multitude of medications that usually didn't work. I also developed the horrifying self-injurous habit of cutting (which I did from age 20 to age 26, and for the past seven years have never done it again!) Somehow, probably because of my strong academic background, I graduated from Community College, and, feeling ambitious and happy (during some of my hypo-manic times), I decided to go to nursing school, and failed three separate times. I have always wanted to be a nurse because I absolutely love, love, love medical things and helping people, and wanted to be a nurse so badly, but just couldn't ever do it. I truly wish I could handle it, but have come to realize that it's just not something I can do. Too rigorous. Too many crazy and overnight hours. Not good for my Bipolar.

In 2004, I was living on my own and working full-time as a Medical Assistant, but I couldn't keep it up, so I ended up getting really depressed, and shot myself in the chest.  I lived, but lost my apartment and job, and my family would not let me live with them, so I had to move into a behavioral residential home because I had nowhere else to live.  I hated it there, but what else could I do?Working was too overwhelming for me, and I needed to do that to have an apartment of my own.  And I just couldn't do any of it.  I was just so unbelievably sick, and didn't know how to get well, nor did I really care to.  I lived there for two years, and was so sick that I tried, in June of 2006, to kill myself again.  This time I went to a motel, turned on the tv, and swallowed 150 Tylenol PM.  I survived through the night, vomiting the entire time, and was completely out of it when I went to return the room key to the manager the next morning, that she asked me if I was on drugs.  I said that I wasn't, but she was really freaked out, and she saw a police car on the other side of the street and called him over.  I was highly agitated and very upset, but no one knew what I had done.  The police officer took me to the hospital, where I remained in Intensive Care for about a week.  But, I survived that one too.  I was so not happy with that.  I was sent to another psychiatric hospital (one I had been in many times) and with nothing to live for, and I literally heard God speak to me! Seriously. I did. He said "You're worth it to me and I love you"! Well, that sealed the deal. I knew that I would be okay! I got out of the hospital, vowing never to return, got two part-time jobs, moved out of the residential house, and rented a room in a house owned by someone I had known in middle school!   I knew I was finally getting better :)

About Me: The early years, Divorce, family, and school (Part 1)

Well, here I go!  I can't believe that I'm writing my first post for my new blog...very exciting stuff!  This is my first attempt at this sort of thing, and thanks to my friend, Brenda, for recommending that I do this :)  For a few months, I have been looking for a way to share my story of living well with Bipolar Disorder!  Brenda knew the answer!

I have cut the About Me posts up into three parts because there's just way too much to say in one post! I want to give you all my history to help you understand what got me to this magnificent life!

I don't really know where to begin, but I'll give it a try. I am 33 years old, but was told by an older woman just last December that I looked like her 16-year-old grandson!  She was so nice about it, though, so I just took it as a compliment that I look young...haha!  I was born in 1980, the second daughter of my parents.  Life was good for a while, and then they divorced because my father was unfaithful, so when I was six my dad left.  My mother got primary custody of my sister and me, but we would go to visit with my dad every Wednesday and every other weekend.  My father married the woman he was unfaithful with in 1988, and she had a son, so I got a younger step-brother.  My mother remarried in 1989, and he had three daughters, so I got three step-sisters.  That means that, technically, I have five siblings!  They are all grown now with families of their own, and I hope that they are happy. 

I will try to run through my "growing-up years" quickly, as Stacey, my wife, just saw me typing a lot and said "You don't need to write your life story in your first post, you know!" I told her, as I told you that I just want to give history so you know how I came to be the person I am today.  And, I really don't think that it's going to be quickly, though I will try!

The divorce was extremely hard on me, as I know that divorce is on many children.  My sister seemed to just "roll with it," but I just couldn't seem to do that myself.  So much was changing for me.  A lot happened in three short years, I had thought.  My dad left (which is totally confusing when you're only six!), I got a new step-mom and step-dad, and four new siblings all within that time!  It just through me for a loop, if you know what I mean.  Too much.  And I didn't handle any of it well.  I really wanted to be with my dad most of the time, but he didn't have primary custody of us, so that couldn't happen. My mom didn't like that and made sure I knew it, and made my life pretty unbearable.  She yelled a lot, would get mad very easily, and used guilt so much in my life that I still have to fight feeling bad about everything in my life to this day.  She tried to be a good mom.  I get that.  She made mistakes.  I get that.  But she did a whole lot more than that, but I won't go into that now.

I grew up living with my mom, step-dad, and four sisters, mainly. It was tough, but I managed to be a good student, had a couple of friends (until I was in high school, then I really didn't have any friends), and loved to listen to music, read, and write.  I won a couple of poetry and writing contests, and even won a class Spelling Bee once in middle school!  I really liked school, and seeing my teachers was always the highlight of my days!