Random Thoughts

I don't know why life can be so hard and unfair. I don't know why the innocent suffer and the wicked thrive. It's hard dealing with the hand I was dealt. I used to be depressed and angry about it but I have since become resigned to the way life is. I just try to find joy and pleasure in life each day. I used to feel so down on myself because of my limitations. I just try to work around them and do the best I can. My husband drinks alcohol to quel the anger and depression he feels. I can't drink so I have to find different ways of dealing with my depression. Some days I lie in bed all day and can't get up. Those days are hard because I can't explain them to my husband. He doesn't understand why I can't be productive those days. It's hard to get him to understand why my depression affects me so much even on medication.

My illness has taken a real toll on my self-esteem. I used to feel so useless and stupid. I would work so hard at being normal only to get no acknowledgment from other people of my hard work. Working every day was a monumental challenge and I worked for as long as I could. When I could no longer work I tried to get disability. When that failed I really felt guilty because I thought well maybe I could work. I tried to work but I couldn't hold a job for a week. I tried looking but I couldn't find anything. Then I started to have trouble sleeping. Now I don't sleep at night and I sleep during the day. I have tried to change this sleep pattern but nothing works. I don't know if I can work a job with my sleep pattern being the way it is. I really want to find a way to work from home so I can work during the night. That would be ideal.

Being an atheist has improved my self-esteem and allowed my to stop feeling so guilty about everything. I have a better sense of humor. I am not as anxious about everything. I still have fears and anxieties but not as much as before. It was very difficult for me as a Christian. I felt like I was a constant disappointment to God. I couldn't maintain a joyful mood. I couldn't be out of myself all of the time. I couldn't please God all of the time. I didn't feel God's grace but God's wrath. I felt like such a spiritual failure. I was so full of guilt and anxiety. Church was hard to endure. I felt like I couldn't do anything right. It was never good enough. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn't be myself because that wasn't pleasing to God. I tried to be someone I wasn't. It was sucking the life out of me. I couldn't take it anymore. I just gave up. I wanted to be sane and have peace in my life. I just couldn't get that as a Christian.


It's hard not working because everything seems like a waste of time. At times I do nothing because nothing interests me. It's really hard at times. I'm starting to think differently. Now I try to stay busy with something because it's better than doing nothing. Just getting out of the house is better than spending time at home doing nothing. I try to write but it's hard concentrating. I try to read but it's still hard concentrating for a long time. Movies don't interest me because my attention span isn't that long. Sometimes everything seems like a really hard chore. If I get up and do something during the day that's a good day. I'm not lazy I have an illness. I have limitations and that's why I can't work. I couldn't prove it to the government but I still can't work.

I don't know how to stop thinking like a depressed person. I just think that things are hopeless sometimes. I feel like I'm just waiting for the next crisis to happen. This economy is so bad right now. I worry that my husband will lose his job and we will end up homeless. I fear that I won't be able to get my meds and that I will end up in the hospital. I fear that I will have a heart attack or stroke and end up really disabled. I just don't have any faith in luck and fortune. I just think that things will get shitty at some point. I wish I could think more positively about life. I don't have any faith in the world as a whole. Good things happen,bad things happen life just happpens. I used to lie in bed all day because I was afraid of what might happen. Anything can and will happen I can't stop that. Life is completely random. There's no meaning to it at all. Life is a wild ride and we just have to hang on and try to stay sane.

I am thankful for the trials I have had because it's made me more thankful for the peace and wellness I have had. I want to be more positive and thankful for my life. When my sister died I realized that I was living my life in fear. My sister did the best she could and tried to live life with strength and dignity. I took that lesson for myself and try to do the same.I just realized that I didn't cherish life and living. I was just waiting to die. I have changed my outlook since the death of my sister. It changed my life. I want to be more positive and live life with gusto.

I'm scared for the country right now. The Republicans are determined to ruin Obama's presidency. I just want the country to be healed from the recession and for health care costs to go down. I want the health care system to be fixed so that people with mental illness can be treated with dignity. I want to be able to do something for a living so that we can get a permanent place to live and a car. I just want to live a good life and die happy.

Happiness is overrated.

Being Bipolar is difficult because I can't always control my emotions. If I am depressed I can't "Snap out of it" if I am manic I can't "Tone it down". Before my diagnosis I thought something was wrong with me when my emotions would go up and down on a dime. I just thought I was immature or undisciplined or ungrateful. It's like being on a rollercoaster that I can't get off of. It's very frustrating because people don't understand why I can't control my emotions. They think I am being difficult on purpose. Medication helps but it doesn't eliminate the symptoms of my illness. I can still get depressed or hypomanic while on my medication. Medication keeps me out of the hospital but it doesn't erase the illness.

Over the years I have been forced to become much more patient and forgiving of myself. I have realized that I have an illness and cannot do certain things at particular times. I had to give up on the notion that if I had positive thoughts I would automatically feel positive. This is impossible to do when I am clinically depressed. My brain is acting on its faulty chemistry and I cannot fully control that. When I am hypomanic I can do certain things to try to limit my symptoms but I can't turn it off. I have to ride out the waves of my illness and hope not too much damage is done.

Being the the church I was didn't help my illness. The church preached that a good Christian is joyful all the time and in full control of her emotions. Some people like my sister were told to go off their meds because God was in control of their emotions. I knew better than to go off my meds after watching my sister end up in the hospital when she did. As a result of the gospel I was being fed daily I felt guilty all of the time. I felt like a defective human being because I couldn't get happy when I was depressed. I felt evil and undisciplined. I was told I was being ungrateful if I was depressed after what God did for me. I was burdened with feelings of deep guilt and self-hatred. When I was manic I was the perfect Christian and made leadership happy. I was intense and joyful and "fired-up". Just what leadership wanted. But when I was depressed I was lazy and ungrateful. I was depresssed most of the time before my medication.

I can't control my brain. There's no way I can just change my emotional state if I am in the throws of the symptoms of my illness. I couldn't explain this to people in my church. They thought that if I just changed the way I thought that the emotions would follow. I tried really hard to do this to no avail. I couldn't change my emotions no matter how hard I tried. I ended up feeling like a spiritual failure and an evil person. I felt anxious about my salvation and was sure that I was going to hell. I felt powerless to change my spiritual situation. I felt like God hated me and didn't want me to be happy.

When I got on medication I felt better. I felt normal and could function and hold down a job. I got married and had a normal life for years. I still felt guilty during the times I got depressed. It was hard on my marriage because my husband felt like I was angry at him. I tried to get it through to him that my depression wasn't caused by anything he did. It was my illness. He understands that now but it took a while to comprehend. Christians at my church could not understand. I tried to explain why I couldn't control my depressions and why I had to take medications but it just didn't compute.

I began to question the existence of a God who gave me an illness that prevented me from doing His will. It made not sense to me. I understood grace but I was told not to take God's grace for granted. I should be a perfect disciple without grace. I felt frustrated. I couldn't be a good Christian without God's grace. If I couldn't take advantage of that then how was I supposed to be a good Christian without it? My faith weakened and eventually disapeared over time. The burden of guilt was just too great. I couldn't be a Christian anymore. I couln't keep reaching for an impossible standard. I couldn't believe in a God who made me disabled and yet expected me to be perfect. I just couldn't wrap my mind around that concept. I gave up my faith to save my sanity.

Oprah talks alot about being happy. She says you should try to bring yourself happiness as much as possible. You should be living your best life. This is bullshit. If I had a gazillion dollars like Oprah maybe I could live my best life and be happy all the time. I have an illness and a disability. It's impossible for me to be happy all of the time. I don't strive for that anymore. I just try to survive and be there for my friends and family. That's all I can do.

On Becoming A Writer

I have always been a reader. From the time I learned how to read I became a voracious reader. I especially became engrossed in books when I was a preteen. I loved fantasy and science fiction the best. I fell in love with the Dune series when I was 12. I also read Lord of the Rings but it was a little too advanced for me. Chronicles of Narnia were my favorite books. My mother would get books and magazines from the thrift store and I would read those too. The library was my second home. I loved the silence and the smell of books. I loved to read. When I read my problems disapeared. I no longer felt afraid or embarrassed. I wanted to go to college so I could read and learn some more. I was excited to go to college. I also read the Bible. It was so comforting to me. I was encouraged by a God who cared for me. I wanted to get baptized so I could experience this kind of love.

After my last manic episode in 2004 I had a different attitude toward reading. I just didn't have the attention span. It was hard to concentrate so I stopped reading books. This concerned my husband because he knew how much I used to read. I couldn't explain it. It was like my brain was burnt out and I couldn't read or write anything. I wrote a story in 2007 but that was during a hypomanic episode. I don't recall reading anything for years. I read some books by Barbara Kingsolver but that was it. I realize that my brain is behaving differently. I don't sleep very much, I have a short attention span. It's hard to stay focused on anything for more than 2 hours. It's very difficult for me at times. That's why I applied for disability. I knew I couldn't hold down a regular job anymore. The last several years have been a period of recovery for me. It's hard to admit that but it's true.

I keep telling myself I should write. I put it off and don't do anything. I am afraid that I will write bad stuff and get rejected. Also writing is very tedious to me. I used to enjoy writing papers and essays in school but after 2004 I just don't have the patience. I feel I should be doing something to show for a days work, though. I thought maybe I could write screenplays but it's been difficult getting started. I have ideas but I just can't bring myself to put them on paper. I don't know if I should force myself to write. Maybe that is what I should do. Set goals for myself. I was thinking of taking a class on screenwriting but we don't have the money right now.

I used to draw and paint alot then I stopped. Now I don't think I could draw anything even if I wanted to. I don't want to lose my reading and writing skills too. I am tired of going through a day and not having anything to show for it. It's very frustrating to go through a day and not have anything to show for it. I want to have a purpose and a meaning to my life. It's hard just existing and not doing anything. I feel like I am going through life without any purpose. It's frustrating. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

Growing up feeling unloved

I read a book once that talked about love languages. We as humans communicate love through different languages. It was an interesting take on love. I found that I responded to physical and verbal expressions of love. Exactly what I didn't get growing up. It was hard growing up because we were poor. My mother lived on food stamps, spousal support and welfare. She eventually got a job with the state but it didn't pay much. Often we would go without food and other necessities like toilet paper. My mother shopped at the thrift store for our clothes. It was hard being a poor kid because at school other kids knew it. It wasn't easy going to school and everybody knows you're poor. My mother was always stressed out and depressed. She was never happy with us. She was always yelling at us for something. I felt especially picked on.

At age 7 to 9 I was sexually abused by some neighborhood kids. They would threaten to beat me up if I didn't do what they said. My mother never knew about this. I was too afraid to say anything to anyone. The abuse stopped when the kids moved away. I didn't feel safe anywhere. I felt depressed but my behaviour was seen as rebellion or lazyness. I just wanted to be invisible where I didn't have people yelling at me or making fun of me. I enjoyed school and reading and going to the library. That was my escape. I made up a fantasy world where I was loved.

I never felt loved by my family. I felt like I was a burden to my mother and father. My father gave me an allowance but he made me feel guilty for accepting it. Christmas , Easter, and birthdays would be times when I would get presents but I got the message that these gifts were out of an obligation to me because I was a relative. I never felt loved even on my birthday. My birthday is on December 23 so I would get combination presents. I never had a birthday party because I didn't have any friends. I didn't have a birthday party at school because my birthday happened during Christmas break. Everything I was given was with the message that I shouldn't be ungrateful and spoiled and should feel guilty because somebody spent money on me. Looking back I see that these presents were expressions of love. It just didn't feel like it at the time.

I only remember one time when my mother hugged me. I was about six years old and was crying about something and my mother hugged me. The way she did it was so awkward. It felt clammy and cold. I wished she didn't hug me. I don't remember one word of encouragement or praise growing up. I can't recall one time when my father told me anything encourageing. It was really hard because I wanted that kind of encourgement so badly. I felt so alone and sad. I made up a fantasy world where I was loved. I didn't feel loved at all. My sisters behaved as if they were not loved as well. My sister, Carmen, ran away when she was about fourteen. She was gone for a few days then returned. My other sister Pamela was very quiet and shy and never complained but she seemed depressed most of the time.

I just don't understand it. How hard is it to give your kid a hug or an encourageing word? I know times were tough and it was hard making ends meet but my mother had our father to rely on. It seemed like we went without simply because my mother couldn't bring herself to ask my father for anything. My mother was just not a physical person neither was my father but how hard is it to deny yourself every once in a while and hug your kid?I just don't understand it. I know I was depressed most of the time but I would remember if I was hugged or told "l love you". I just remember being yelled at by my mother and sister and being told to be grateful for what I have. I just wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

I'm confident that my lack of feeling loved primed me to be attracted to a church that turned out to be an abusive cult. The members of the church would treat me with such love and friendship that I was blown away at first. I was totally willing to give my trust and obedience to people who professed to love me with the love of Christ. To go from no friends to alot of "friends" was overwhelming. It took me several months to trust these people but when I did I was a loyal member for twenty years. I did leave shortly in 1991 when I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The lonliness was just too much and I craved the friendships. I went back to the church in 1993 and soon fell in love and got married in 1995. I enjoyed close friendships and really felt the love of God. In time, however, I found this came with a price. I had to be totally obedient and financially sacrificial to the church. Over time this kind of Christianity wore me out emotionally and spiritually. I had to leave when I felt that I couldn't be the Christian the church preached. I just couldn't live in such a stressful environment anymore.

I don't expect my parents to be perfect. I know the stress of trying to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table was hard. I just wish my parents had the presence of mind to say "I love you" or give a hug once in a while. Even if I could've talked about school and been open about my sexual abuse maybe things would have been different. I know I wouldn't have been so loyal to an abusive church. I know if I had had better self-esteem maybe I would have gotten help with my illness sooner. Children need to be loved or they will find it elsewhere.

When I grew up I replaced the church I went to for my parents' lack of love. I think that is why it took me so long to leave the church. I wanted so badly to please the church thus pleasing God that I remained extremely loyal. I craved positive reinforcement and hugs from church leadership. I wanted to be a leader so that people would follow me and be loyal to me the way I was loyal to the church. I wanted God to be pleased with me so that meant doing everything the church said so I could be pleasing to God. It was very demanding and unforgiving at times what the church wanted me to do. It seemed as if I couldn't do enough right. I felt like a spiritual failure. Eventually I realized that these standards were not realistic. I knew I could let go then. I didn't need a church to tell me that I was a valuable person.

I needed to learn to love myself. It was hard but I feel I can do that now. I don't need people to tell me I'm valuable. I am worthy of love because I am human being. All living things deserve respect and love. We don't always get what we deserve. That doesn't mean that we are worthless. That's a lesson I've learned over the years.

I don't care if you hate me.

During my school years I was very unpopular. I was too poor to afford the hip clothes and hair style. I couldn't afford to go to clubs and party in high school. I didn't have a car. I couldn't do anything athletic. The bullying didn't stop when I got home. My mother and older sister would yell at me for whatever reason too. I learned to escape into a fantasy world or a book. I just endured the teasing and bullying because I was afraid to fight. I didn't get angry I got sad. I just had low self-esteem most of my school years. I hear about kids who kill themselves because they are teased too much. I didn't think of doing that. I just endured it so I could go to school and learn something. I went to school every day because I wanted to learn something. I enjoyed learning and reading. I spent alot of time at the library escaping into books. I like the silence and peace of the library it was opposite of what my home life was like.

Sometimes kid's teasing would make me cry but most of the time I was numb to it. It just got old. I tried to concentrate on the teacher and what I was supposed to learn. When I was depressed it was hard because I couldn't understand math or science too well. This made me look stupid and kids in math and science class would hate me because they thought I was stupid. I couldn't understand why I couldn't get math or science. I just thought I must be stupid like the other kids thought. It was much later that I learned that when you are depressed your brain doesn't process information too well. That made me feel better when I learned that.

I just felt so bad about myself until I turned eighteen. I felt better that year and I was doing ok in school. I had a part time job so I had some money. I took Tae Kwon Do class and lost some weight. I felt ok that year. I was feeling pretty optimistic about college and pretty excited about what I was going to learn. That good feeling changed when I joined college ROTC. I was out of shape and couldn't keep up with the group when they went running in the morning. I sucked at ROTC and everybody hated me. I felt like I was in grade school all over again. I quit ROTC after my freshman year and concentrated on going to church.

Church really made me feel good. I felt like I belonged somewhere. I felt close to God and really full of spiritual joy. This changed when I had a bad period of depression. I had no idea what was going on with me. I would skip class and sleep all day. I would act weird and read depressing books in the Bible. My behavior was bizarre and I became suicidal but noone in the church thought to get me any help. I finally quit school and went to see a doctor who just gave me meds for hypothyroid. I continued to get depressed and attempted suicide by setting my apartment on fire. After getting two years probation for the fire I was mis-diagnosed with unipolar depression. I was given an anti-depressant which made me manic. I had a manic episode and spend the night in the hospital. After that I was given Lithium. The Lithium was hard at first because it made me really lethargic and slow. My father thought I was stupid and lazy. That really hurt. I tried really hard to prove that I wasn't stupid and lazy but my father went to his grave thinking that.

I gained alot of weight on Lithium but it did stabilize my moods. Going on other meds didn't work as well as Lithium. I tried Tegertol,Depakote,Lamictal,Wellbutrin,Paxil,and Seroquel. These all had annoying side effects or didn't have any effect at all. I have to take the Lithium so my weight will always be high. I have been hated because of my weight. Two women I knew at church hated me because of my weight. I read an article recently about a woman with Bipolar Disorder who gained alot of weight on a medication. The medication stabilized her mood but she hated herself because of her weight. Her family also disliked her because of her weight. She lost friends because of her weight. She went off the medication and struggled with her moods because she'd rather be thin and unstable than fat and stable. I feel like she is saying she'd rather die than be fat. Bipolar disorder does result in death for alot of people who don't find a medication that works for them. I would rather live and be fat than risk death and be thin.

The women who hated me at church had eating disorders. I think if a person dislikes me it's because of a hang-up they have rather than about me. I've been hated because of my religion, because I married a white man, because I'm fat, because of my race,and because of my illness. I think the kids who bullied me at school did so to feel better about themselves. The strong tend to prey on the weak sort of thing. My sister, however, had alot of hang-ups about herself. She was angry and depressed growing up and didn't have much of a support system. I have no idea why she picked on me, though. Maybe she felt picked on. She was bullied at school too.

At this point in my life I have no desire to make people like me. If they hate me for whatever reason I guess that's the way it will be. I don't care to waste my time on people who hate me. Why would I try to change to make them like me? Why try losing weight to please other people for instance? If you hate fat people that's your business. I'm not going to try to change you. I think I'm at the poing where I don't care about what people think about me. I'm on this planet to do things that have nothing to do with what people think about me.

Living for Myself

I spent 20 years attending a church that preached a works-based theology. I was nineteen when I was baptised into this church. That's a pretty young age to dedicate one's life to being a disciple of Jesus. I was told anybody could be a Christian but being a disciple was going to get me to heaven. I bought this theology wholly as I tried to die to myself and be a perfect disciple. I had a major obstacle to overcome, though. I have a mental illness. I left the church briefly after my diagnosis but returned determined to overcome my disability. Having Bipolar Disorder means never being in full control of your moods and emotions. Medication helps but depression and mania still can overtake your life. I bought the idea that God could help me overcome my illness and allow me to be the perfect disciple.

I felt guilt and stress everyday as I constantly failed to be joyful and in control of my emotions and moods. I couldn't understand why my prayers weren't being answered. It took a monumental effort for me to attend the regular meetings of the church and hold down a job. I felt like a complete failure. I would pray fervently every day for God to help me control my moods so I could be constantly joyful and full of spiritual energy. As the years went on and I realised the futility of my thinking I felt more and more run down and burned out. Finally I couldn't keep trying to be a perfect disciple so I quit.

At first I held on to my faith thinking I just needed to find a different church. After a year of not going to church I found that I just didn't want to believe in God anymore. If I went to a different church it would still be preaching from the same Bible. I would still be living the same cunundrum that I was living for the past twenty years. I just wanted some rest from Christianity. I decided that God didn't exist. If He did exist he would not force us to live our lives in constant pursuit of an impossible ideal. I gave up my faith over time.

So now that I am no longer living for God who can I live for? My husband? I thought about that and decided that although I want to please my husband I don't want to live for him. I needed a reason to get out of bed. I needed a purpose and a life. It's hard because I don't have a job or career. I don't have children. I don't want children either. I found out that I was not living at all but just waiting for a disaster to overtake my life. I would simply exist and wait for my husband to come home.

As I continued in my non-belief in God I realised that life is not guaranteed for each creature on earth. I realised that I needed to be thankful for the good things in my life. This made me feel better. I also understood that I was in recovery from my last manic episode and this is why I was unable to function completely. I needed to cut myself some slack for having to go through a recovery period because of my illness. It's difficult to get motivation when I have felt so down on myself for so long.

I felt better over the recent year and was able to think about how I wanted to live my life. I want to live life and enjoy it. I don't want to simply exist and wait for disaster to strike. I spent the whole of 2009 worrying about my husband's job and whether he was going to be able to keep it. I couldn't enjoy life because I was constantly worried. I needed to stop worrying and enjoy life as it happens. Bad things happen that's a part of life but I need to think about what's going on in my life in reality. I need to stop creating worse case scenarios and worrying about what might happen. I need to live for myself and do things that make me happy. I don't want to waste any more time worrying or being depressed. I want to be happy and live my life for myself not for a God or a church or a group of people. I just want to wake up with a purpose and a new vision for what my life could be.

The Depressed Mind

I remember the first time I was depressed. I was nine years old. It lasted about six months. I was so sad and lethargic. I really had a hard time concentrating in school. I stopped bathing until my mother yelled at me about it. She thought I was being lazy and rebellious. Teachers thought the same thing. It was really hard because I didn't know what was going on. I really wish my mother would have taken me to the doctor but she couldn't afford it then. She was on food stamps and welfare. It was really hard. I just remember feeling so weird like something came over me. Then it went away.

The next time I was depressed was when I was fifteen. I remember feeling so down. I didn't wash or brush my teeth. I just felt so down. School was hard. It was hard concentrating. My handwriting was bad. I couldn't understand math or science class. I felt so down and sad. I couldn't get myself out of bed. I nearly flunked out of High School. My mother ,again, didn't notice anything. I don't remember if I told her about my grades. She just didn't notice. My sister eloped and moved away. My other sister was showing signs of severe mental illness. My mother was engrossed in these issues and didn't notice what was going on with me. I was not making a connection between my sister's mental illness and my own. I didn't realize we were suffering from the same illness. For years I thought my sister suffered from schizophenia. I didn't realize until years later that she was Bipolar. My depression lasted about eighteen months then it went away.

The next time I was depressed was in 1989 while I was a student at the University of Colorado at Boulder. I missed classes and didn't go to finals. I was very depressed and sad. I couldn't stay awake in my classes even though I had plenty of sleep. I couldn't concentrate. I eventually became suicidal. When this happened I saw a counselor but she wasn't very helpful. I had a hypomanic episode between bouts of depression and tried to fix my academic standing. I was about to lose my student loan. I did o.k. for a while but I got depressed and suicidal again. I dropped out of school in 1991. I was really depressed for a while. I moved into my own apartment and tried to hold a job. It was really hard. I had a difficult time keeping a job. I would get depressed and quite the job I had.

I went to a doctor who diagnosed me with hypothyroid. He prescribed synthroid. I continually got depressed. I became suicidal and set fire to my apartment. I survived but the apartment was destroyed and the building had smoke damage. I was jailed for arson. After two weeks in jail I was let out and prescribed Prozac. I took that for a week and went to the Mental Health Coporation of Denver. They prescribed Disipramine which is and anti-depressant. I had a manic episode which was triggered by the anti-depressant. After that I was prescribed Lithium. I took Lithium for about five years. I did pretty well on it but I couldn't tolerate caffeine for some reason.

I have had only three manic episodes in my life. Most of the time I am combatting severe depressive episodes. I have also had bouts of hypomania which is a manic episode without the delusions of a full-blown episode. My episodes of depression can last a long time. I have had bouts of depression last from six months to three years. It's really hard to stay alive while depressed. I have had bouts of suicidal tendencies more times than I care to remember. Anxiety is a companion to depression. I have had a couple of panic attacks that were very unpleasant.


I think having Bipolar I is harder than being manic most of the time. People like me when I a manic or hypomanic. I am out of myself and joyful and I have more personality. When I am depressed I am very introverted to the point that some people take my lack of social behaviour personaly. I do not try to insult someone but I can offend someone when I am depressed and don't act social. I don't react to social stimili the way a normal person would. I frown alot and I don't talk or respond to conversation. People get the impression that I am angry with them for some reason. I used to get grief when I went to work depressed because I wasn't smiling or responding to people's social cues.

I feel like I need people to understand that when I am depressed it's really hard to do anything productive like keep a job. When I'm depressed I'm walking through a cloud of molasses where everything is hard. Medication helps but it doesn't erase this feeling. I worked hard at keeping my job because it was important to me. I wanted to stay off of disability and take care of myself. When I got married I felt the pressure even more.It takes ten times the effort of a depressed person to function in society. It's very hard work to keep a job and stay out of the hospital. I was devestated when I no longer could keep a full time job. I felt like a burden and a failure. Each time I was denied disability I was so angry because I knew I couldn't work. I tried to prove it with a lawyer the third time but I was denied for the third time. That made me so angry and discouraged. I am still smarting from that decision in a lot of ways.

Some days it takes effort for me just to get out of bed and get dressed. Then I have to stay alive all day. The desire to commit suicide is strong on some days. What motivates me to stay alive is that fact that suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. I would affect my family and my husband in a deep way if I ended it. I would not be there to comfort them and keep them from hurting over my death. I keep thinking these things so that I don't give in to the tempation.
I also make a pact with myself that no matter how bad things got I would stay alive and deal with life. That has saved my life numerous times.

It's really hard to stay positive when you are depressed most of the time. I am always feeling like something bad is going to happen to me in life. Anxiety is always there to pepper my thoughts. I dread the day so I am a grumpy person in the morning. I'd rather sleep through the morning so I don't have to face the day too soon. I find it difficult to enjoy things in life. I feel flatlined emotionally because of the medication I am on (Lithium).

It's been difficult maintaining a marriage with all this. I have a hard time communicating with my husband because I am depressed most of the time. Having any kind of sex drive is also difficult. That is a side effect of my medication and depression.When I feel better I make an effort to be there for my husband but it is difficult. My efforts , while monumental to me, are sometimes not noticed by my husband. This creates a feeling of not being appreciated. I don't know how to eradicate this feeling but I am trying.

Depression has taken so much out of me and from me. I couldn't finish school, I now cannot work, I don't enjoy life or feel happy most days. It's a hard way to live and I know from experience that it improves for a little while and then returns to a pessimistic existence.
It takes a huge amount of strength for me to continue to exist. I don't like going to the hospital especially since I am not covered by my health insurance for Bipolar Disorder.I try to enjoy life but it is difficult. Sometimes I am tempted to go off my medication so I can have a manic or hypomanic episode just to feel better for a short while. I cannot risk the consequences of going off my medication. It's a thought I have, though.

Workin' For A Livin'

I haven't worked in almost ten years. I am not a lazy person, however. My husband supports us on his income. I wish I could work but I am unable to. It's been hard for us financially and we finally had to file bankruptcy last year. We lost our house in 2003 due to both of us being unemployed for over a year. The second mortgage company wanted to sue us so we had to file bankruptcy. I also had alot of medical bills. It was really hard to recover from that. We got help from my mother-in-law and the church we used to go to a few times. My husband has been working steadily since 2004. He is a hard worker and good at what he does. He now works at a hotel as a maintenance person.

When I was first diaganosed with Bipolar Disorder I was given a chance to go on disability. I opted for joining a vocational program that would get me in to a job instead. My sister who also had Bipolar Disorder was not able to work and was on disability most of her life. The thought of going on disability was repulsive to me. I wanted to please my father and get to the point where I could take care of myself. I looked down on my sister for not being able to work. I just didn't want to be that helpless. I thought that my sister could have worked a part-time job or volunteered if she wanted to. I judged her and thought she was being lazy. I had no idea the kind of struggle she had to try to stay out of the hospital. I had no clue.

I mostly worked customer service jobs for ten years. I had a job in High School at The Spaghetti Factory as a hostess and busser. In college I worked in food service. My first phone job was doing surveys over the phone. I breifly had a job at Stapleton Airport as a cocktail waitress. Mostly I have done customer service,though. I enjoyed doing customer service. Sometimes it would get stressful dealing with angry customers but that didn't happen too often. I had to quit my last job when I couldn't work a part-time schedule. My boss was nice and tried to accomodate my illness but I couldn't do it so I quit. I was sure I could get on disability. After all I had been paying in to it for ten years. Little did I know.....

After the first time I was denied disability in 2001 I tried to work from home. I got a job doing customer service from home. I couldn't work a 15 hour a week schedule. It was really hard and exhausting for me. I had to quit. I knew then that I couldn't work anymore. I also tried cleaning a friend's house for a while but I couldn't be consistent so I stopped doing that after a while.I decided to try to go back to school. I went for a year. It was hard but I completed two semesters at college. Then my husband got laid off. I applied for disability again and got denied again. We lived on unemployment for more than a year. We couldn't keep up the payments on the house. We foreclosed on the house. My husband found a job driving buses and worked for a few months. We were able to rent an apartment from a friend at church. My husband got fired and got another job driving airport shuttles. A few months later he was fired from that job and got a job repairing appliances. We could no longer afford to live where we were so we moved to a cheaper place in September 2005. We have been in the same place since then.

During the year my husband was unemployed I could not get medication for my illness. I didn't have health insurance and I couldn't afford medication. I was off medications for about six months when I had a major manic episode that lasted for three weeks. This was in July of 2004. I was in the hospital for two weeks. This was while my husband was working as a bus driver. After I got out of the hospital I was put on Lithium and Haldol. I was so severely depressed that I barely remember the next three years. I just remember trying to make through the day without killing myself or ending up in the hospital again.

In 2007 we left the church we had been going to for twenty years. We both had a crisis of faith and stopped believing in God. I think struggling so much financialy and losing our house was very hard on the both of us. We both lost our faith and our hope in God. My husband's dream of being an electrician was gone and my dream of finishing college was gone. We felt tired spirtually and didn't feel like following a God who didn't seem to care about us. I gave up on my faith and in time became an atheist.

I wish I could tell my sister how proud of her I am. She struggled with a severe mental illness. She tried really hard to take her medication and stay out of the hospital. Sometimes she would get manic and refuse to take her medication. It was hard to stay out of the hospital for her. She really could not work a job. I now understand what she went through. It's hard for me to take my medication because I don't sleep at the same time each night. Sometimes I forget and have to remind myself to take my medication the next day. I often miss doses. This is scary because if my blood levels get low enough I could have a manic episode.

I tried really hard to keep a job when I was single and when I was newly married. I didn't want to become a burden to anyone. I lived in my father's house (he was never there, he lived with his girlfriend/second wife) for two years and I felt so guilty. I felt like a burden to my father even though he rarely gave me money. I lived on food stamps and from the part time job I had through the vocational program I was in. I was doing this all for my father and I don't think he even noticed my efforts. He died worried about me and was convinced that I couldn't take care of myself even though that's what I'd been doing along.

I wish people could walk a day in a mentally ill person's shoes. It's really frustrating to get people to understand the kind of suffering severe depressions and manias cause. When I am severely depressed (which is most of the time) I can barely function. It's like walking through fog that never clears. I can't concentrate. I can't move very fast. I have to take things slowly. Getting out of bed and dressed can take a long time to do. It's like there are thousands of tiny weights on my limbs and I can hardly move. When I am manic I am full of energy and anxiety. I am very paranoid and hyper-sensitive. I have so many thoughts and ideas swirling in my head that I can't pinpoint them or even write them down. I get so angry when people think mania is fun. It's a nightmare. Having delusions and fantasies that are so real that you lose track of reality is not fun. Hypo-mania which is mania without the delusions isn't a picnic either. Anxiety levels go through the roof and you feel like you have to keep going or you'll die. Spending money you don't have and realizing later while you are coming down that you don't have rent because you spent it on clothes is a terrifying feeling.Being obnoxious and irritable hurts the people around you. I had to keep a full-time job with an illness like this. It was so hard to get to work some days. Then when I got there I wasn't happy enough for the people around me. I constantly felt like I couldn't do anything right. On my hypo-manic days I was super productive and my supervisor couldn't understand why I couldn't be consistent. I had enough middle-of-the-road days that I could keep my job. I rarely called in sick. I tried really hard to make it to work on time every day. It was a monumental challenge most days.

Trying To Lighten Up

I was reading over my blog entries and it occured to me that most of them are depressing. I don't mean to be a downer all the time. I suffer from Bipolar Disorder and am depressed or emotionally flatlined most of the time. I take medication but this keeps me from being suicidal or manic and doesn't eliminate mild depression or hypo manias ( hypo mania is slightly manic state without the delusions of full-blown mania). I have spent a good part of my life being depressed which means that I have alot of negative thinking in my head most of the time. I am used to this kind of thinking and don't notice it until I feel less depressed. I have alot of depressive habits like staying in bed for hours, vegging out in front of the t.v., eating junk food, thinking negative thoughts, being anxious, ect. It's hard not to be drawn to these habits even when I am feeling better.

When I am feeling good I get anxious because I wonder if I am being manic. I can't enjoy my improved mood because it may be a sign that I am getting sick. My crazy sleep schedule has made it difficult to keep my medication regimen. I often feel bad when I realize that I have not been taking my meds every day like I am supposed to. I know that I have to have a certain amount of my medication in my system for it to work. I need to take my medication but it's been hard because I forget sometimes even after all this time. I feel guilty because if I get sick it's my fault and we can't afford the hospital because out insurance doesn't cover my illness because it's a pre-existing condition.

Not working has been very depressing for me. I have felt guilt for not being able to contribute to the household income. I felt stupid and useless. I also felt lazy because I couldn't bring myself out of my depressions. I just felt so aimless especially since I no longer believe in God. I also felt like I was waiting to die, especially after my sister died. I felt sure that I wasn't going to see my 50th birthday. I just waited for the inevitable disaster to happen. Nothing has happened. I need to lighten up. I'm afraid to lighten up because if I do then I'm afraid something bad will happen. I know that sounds crazy. Why can't I just go with the good feelings I have at the time? I have to make up some worse case scenario to go with it. I actually feel like I deserve my depression. I need to get out of thinking that way.

It's hard because I have only been positive during my manias. I'm not in the habit of feeling good or positive. The disaster in Haiti is one example of my negative thinking. It breaks my heart to see people who suffer already suffer more. It's like the Holocaust. So many suffered and died in despair. There is so much suffering in the world how can we comprehend or aleviate it? People suffer all their lives and then they die. There's no comfort in so many people's lives. At least I have experienced comfort,love,joy, passion, laughter, relaxation, and other positive emotions. A lot of people don't even experience that for even a moment. It's not fair that there are people who are suffering extreme poverty and despair while others enjoy great prosperity and hope. It's just so unfair.

I want to feel good most of the time and not let my depressions get the best of me. It's just really difficult because I often don't realize how depressed I am until I am out of the depression. Some people can be positive and upbeat but I can't tap into that emotion very easily. Being thankful helps me get out of my depression. When I count my blessings I don't feel so bad. Calling someone or leaving a nice note on FB helps me feel better. Listening to my favorite music helps. Writing helps me feel better and not so unproductive. Even if noone reads this blog I still like writing it because it helps me put things into perspective.

Having Bipolar Disorder is really hard and robs me of so much positive energy. I still feel as if I can control it somehow. Aside from taking my medication more regularly I don't know what else I can do. I try so hard to stay out of the hospital and alive each day. Just doing those two things can be draining. Some days are really hard. I just can't see how I can work. I may be able to hold down a part time job but I don't know for sure. I get so angry at the judge who denied me disability.He was just trying to save the government money. I worked for eight years straight and paid in to social security. I desereved to have disability. I'm not just being lazy or making excuses. I honestly can't work. It's been hard to digest that finally. I feel as if I can finally let go of the guilt I have been feeling for not being able to work.

I really want writing to work for me. I just am so afraid that I'm not that good at it. I think about writing 100 pages and it scares me. Where am I going to get 100 pages. I don't have enough stuff in my brain for a 100 page novel let alone 300 or 400 pages. I have to realize that this stuff doesn't happen overnight. I need to be patient with myself and work on it daily. It's just so overwhelming thinking about what it takes to write a book or a screenplay. I just keep thinking how awesome it would be if we didn't have to worry about money anymore and I could take care of my mother if I had to.

Life is so unpredictable and there's no do-overs. I have to make the most of each day and opportunity to get some happiness out of life because nothing is guaranteed.

Thoughts About The New Year

I'm glad the holidays are over and it's a new year. I hate the month of December. I never wanted to get married in December but I did under pressure. My birthday is in December as well as my husband's. That means an anniversary, two birthdays, Christmas, and New Year's. It starts to snow alot and it's cold. I hate December. I also had dental work done in December. That was not fun. I just wanted to endure December and get it over with. I hate Christmas shopping and then you have to go to people's houses to open the gifts. It's really hard because I am usually depressed in the winter time. It's hard to make myself go out and be cheerful and jolly during this time. My lack of Christmas cheer annoys my husband because he is into it while I am not.

The last new year I was depressed and worried because of the financial situation the country was in. I was worried about my husband losing his job at the hotel. I was sure that we were going to get evicted from our apartment somehow. Nothing bad happened and my worrying was for naught. My mother fell ill and had to retire from working but that was the only worrysome thing that happened in 2009.

I feel relieved that 2009 ended without any major changes in my life. I am less worried that anything bad will happen in 2010. I still worry, though. I don't want to move out of where we are living but the apartments are coming up empty and I'm afraid we will be evicted if the apartment building can no longer pay its mortgage. I'm still worried about my husband's job situation because I don't want him to lose his temper and get fired. I also worry about my mother as she is having a hard time living within her means.

I would like to be more productive during the day. I spend too many hours in bed. I have felt so useless. It's been hard because I don't have a routine. Especially when I stay up all night. I lose focus and get depressed because I don't have anything to do. I need to do things during the day. I need to write and read and work on jewelry making. I need to take a walk everyday (weather permitting). I need to be more thankful for the things that are going right in my life. I also need to cultivate my relationships. I need to call people more. I need to talk to my husband more. I need to find creative ways of spending my free time. Maybe volunteer again. Maybe try to find a part-time job. I need to live my life instead of waiting to die or for the next crisis to happen.