My New Rules

Photo Credit: givepeasachance (Flickr)

My New Rules (courtesy of Dr. Shrink Wrap)

• When I go to bed each night, place morning pills at bedside table with a water bottle.
  
• Take morning meds as soon as I wake up - when my eyes open.
• Get out of bed as soon as pills are swallowed.
• Take an hour's brisk walk (or have an hour of some other vigorous exercise) as soon as possible in the morning.
• Stop eating things that a pre-diabetic person should not eat.
  
• Stop blaming anything or anyone else on my inability to do the things I need to do to take care of myself.

Like 'em? Not sure yet if I do, but I'm willing to try (which is a good sign). I have printed out 4 copies to place around the whole house.

Before my diagnosis, I was very good with rules. If I made one for myself, I did not break it. End of story. Take for example this. I weighed over 200 pounds and was on my way to diabetes. My Dr. told me to cut carbs out of my diet and lose a significant amount of weight. And I did it - 50 pounds. No surgery. No Weight Watchers/Jenny Craig type of thing. Just me. My will.

Here's the problem. Lately, I am not so sure how much control I have over myself any more. I feel like I must regain my will to stick to my rules. To keep going up the mountain even if it's 2 steps forward and 2 back. And with bipolar, regaining my will is an even steeper mountain and heavier rock than I thought I faced when I began this cyber journey.

Well.

Since it's thanksgiving, I will end this post on a positive note. I am thankful to have found this community with whom I share my inner self. Most of my real life friends don't get it like you do. So thanks. Really.

Sleepwalking in the Fog

Photo Credit: luca:sehnsucht (Flickr)

It's a bit difficult to describe how I feel these days. People who know something is awry ask me. Sometimes too much (daily phone calls are difficult for me, and when I ignore them, they become more frequent).

The kids can tell something's up (or down as the case really is). David, in particular, is especially generous with his hugs these days. Ruth, usually the less demonstrative one, asked to snuggle me today. I have tried so hard to insulate them from the effects of my bipolar, but right now, I am too transparent.

When your mom gets out of bed and goes downstairs and immediately falls fast asleep on the couch, it doesn't take much in the brains department to know things are not exactly normal. This behavior has been mine since last Saturday. Never before then.

While on the couch this morning, Seth touched my shoulder and told me that his Dad (who has Alzheimer's) was here. "OK," I said and went right back to sleep. Luckily, my FIL didn't really need anything (or worse, like try to wander off) while I was crashed out. I woke up when I heard him saying aloud, "Is there anywhere to piss here?" And (thank heavens) I was able to get him on the toilet on time.

So.... back to how I feel... It's like walking carrying a heavy load of baggage into the fog while sleeping. I can't see where I'm going, but I lift up one leg with my arms. Put it down. Lift up the other. Put it down. Move the baggage along with me. And so on.

This sleepy ambling takes all the energy I have, and yet I don't really stop. I can't figure out where I'm headed, but something inside keeps me plodding along. At the risk of melodrama, I just don't know where on earth I will find the energy I need to keep this up.

I miss me. I know I'm not the only one, and that is what keeps me going - slowly - but going.

Child's Pose

Photo Credit Ignorrr (Flickr)

In yoga's child's pose
On my bedroom floor
Choking back tears (why, I don't know)
And praying to God for my next breath.

Collision

Photo Credit extranoise (Flickr)

Last night I had a girls' night. The first one in eons. I met up with two intelligent, witty and sweet friends and ate delicious food. NOT A CHILD IN SIGHT! Not even someone else's child at the restaurant.

We talked and shared and laughed and supported each other until the waiter (ever so politely) kicked us out of the restaurant. Then we talked and laughed some more out on the street (apologies from Bloglandia to the poor folk living nearby who thought they would have a nice night's sleep). Thank heaven for a warm night! We hugged as one friend got in her car to go home.

I then took the other friend to her next destination (she has more stamina than I). After a super car hug, I headed home - a half hour journey including mostly freeway driving. It was after midnight. My heart felt light (no, if you are wondering, not a drop of alcohol in my system). After a couple (OK more than a couple) of weeks in the Land Down Under, I felt GOOD as I headed home.

Less than 5 minutes into the freeway part of the journey is a piece of road that is extremely curvy and narrow, so much so that the speed limit is reduced to 35. To one side - cars completely ignoring the slower speed limit. To the other - a barrier with reflectors on top and dark lines etched in the concrete below where in the past, cars (perhaps ignoring the speed limit themselves, or perhaps victims of those in the lane next door) have had close encounters with the concrete.

As I considered my predicament, in an instant, my mood changed. I stared at the concrete with its reflectors and dark lines and thought to myself, "this is a really sharp curve - how quick and easy it would be to just drive my car head-on into that concrete. I'd just need to take my hands off the steering wheel. Poof. No more me."

Photo Credit: striatic (Flickr)

And then I focused on the road and safely arrived home and went to bed.

This morning at about 6, Seth lovingly stroked my head to let me know that he'd be heading off on his weekly bike ride with his really close friend (even though this friend may never again appear in my blog, I'll call him Morgan for the amusement of my girlfriends who dined with me last night). I grunted, knowing that soon, I'd need to get up to feed the kids.

When I needed to pee, I got out of bed. Took my meds, went downstairs and was told by the kids that they had dealt with their own breakfasts. I was shocked, looking at the clock, that it was already 9 a.m. Even so, I climbed onto the downstairs couch, pulled a quilt over me and went back to sleep. At around noon (must have been - he was back from his ride), Seth and the kids were playing nearby and a balloon popped. I opened my eyes and promptly closed them again.

Next thing I remember, I was dreaming that I was peeing. Thankfully, I woke up and that wasn't actually happening. I dragged my weary ass to the bathroom. It was 3 in the frickin' afternoon! I had slept until 3:00! I didn't even do that in my college days.

Anyway, I wanted desperately to get back on the couch, but my rational mind said, "Sis, you know you shouldn't do that." So I told Seth I wanted to get back on the couch but would instead get exercise by taking a walk. Gawdblessim, he's almost always willing to let me exercise, so he said OK.

Pulled on my clothes, shoes, i-pod and phone and off I went in the direction of my favorite hilly trail that doesn't require a car to access from my home. Head, heart and feet all heavy. Even the Gipsy Kings could not lift my spirits or quicken my pace. I realized less than halfway into the loop of the trail that I couldn't go the whole way, and that even if I felt up to it emotionally, it would be dark on the trail pretty soon. So I headed to the shortcut home. Well, it would have been a shortcut, but I got lost (this tells you where my mind wasn't because I've taken this shortcut MANY times).

Not far from home, I was waiting at a light to cross a very busy 6 lane thoroughfare. Speed limit 45. Tons of cars whizzing by. And I thought, "gee, I could just step off this curb into the traffic. Poof. No more me."

Photo Credit Lucia ! (Flickr)

Now we interrupt this blog entry, lest you get yourself too concerned in this moment and try to figure out who I am and where I live, (if you don't know this information about me already) and where the nearest inpatient psychiatric program is.

Let's be clear. These were just thoughts as stated. I didn't say to myself, "gosh, I'd like to..." or "maybe I should..." or "wouldn't everything be better if..." It was kind of like, "whoa. Life is so fragile. If (BIG BIG BIG IF) I wanted to, I sure could."

I'm writing now, so obviously, I held on to that steering wheel. And obviously, I stood on the curb until the light changed. But I don't know exactly what my head is doing to me right now. I have always known how people can take their lives. I know people who have tried. I know people who have. So yes, suicide has touched my life. But I've never connected those notions to me personally, not even obliquely like this.

I promise I'm not going to kill myself. Really, I promise. No matter how far in the Land Down Under I get, I do value myself to some degree and I love my friends and family too much to choose to leave them prematurely.

I am on the verge of creating a gigantic car collision in my life (obviously representative of big change) and I am scared out of my mind.

Thank goodness, Seth is upstairs in bed and will let me cry all I want on his shoulder (literally). Thank goodness I have an appointment with Dr. Shrink Wrap on Wednesday. And I'll be calling in sick Monday and Tuesday.

Folks, the rock is on top of me now. So I am going to take care of myself the best I can - I'm going to climb into bed and ask Seth to hold the rock up a bit so I can breathe.