I have been denied disability. I am not surprised. In fact, I said all along I expected it. I knew I would have to file an appeal. But that doesn't mean I am happy about it. A small part of me really hoped it would be over.

Oh well.

Adderal Power!

Couple updates.

On the 27th I had the first appointment with my new psychiatrist. Not 100% sure about him yet. First of all, he is foreign. He has a thick accent and at times I had trouble understanding him. I don't really care where he's from so long as he knows what he's talking about. But at the same time I wish I would have been able to choose who I was going to see.

We went over everything, which was hard because I basically had to explain eight months of hard work I had done with my previous pdoc in thirty minutes. Something that annoyed me was that he seemed to question a lot of things. Like whether or not I was bipolar, etc etc. He was worried that my manic episodes were drug-induced from antidepressants. But I tried to explain to him that I wasn't always on medication and when I wasn't I still had the same problems.

I brought up the ADHD thing like I had planned. I explained that my former pdoc and I had talked about Adderal and other medications and that we just never got around to working on it. He seemed hesitant, which I hate. I know Adderal is like a class II controlled substance and I'd hate to believe that he thought I was just seeking a fix or something. Another shitty part about having to switch doctors is I have lost that trust I had with the previous pdoc. With Dr. Kanovitz I had a certain amount of control over what I was taking. With Dr. Saeed, I don't know if I will have that.

Anyway, moving on.

Today I had an appointment with my primary doctor to look at a weird mole. Turns out it is fine, just large and weird looking. But while I was there I brought up the whole mess and explained the situation. He wrote me a script for Adderal. That's the trust I'm talking about. He knows me. He knows I'm not just seeking drugs. So he wrote it for me.

Of course now I'm worried it's going to turn me into a spaz!

Long October

Well, it's been about three weeks since I have written anything. I've been meaning to, as quite a bit has happened, but I just haven't really had the desire to sit down and actually do something about it. But here we are, so here it goes.

First, here is some back story. I've been going to Lifespring since February. There I was treated by both a psychiatrist and a psychologist. Before my first appointment, I applied for financial help because at the time I did not have any insurance. I qualified for the top tier, which meant I would only have to pay 20% of the appointment cost. It is important to note that when I was filling out that paperwork, I told the lady that I had applied for the Healthy Indiana Plan (a type of insurance). She didn't say anything in regards to me having the insurance. I knew they didn't accept it, so I still needed the assistance.

Fast forward seven months.

At my last psychiatrist appointment, before I was called back, the administrator called me up to the window. She informed me that because I had Anthem Healthy Indiana Plan insurance, that I would be required to pay full price for visits, which is $125. I was told that their policy is that no one can be subsidized if they have insurance, even if Lifespring doesn't accept the insurance. She further added that they "had turned a blind eye" to me, but they could no longer ignore the fact that I have insurance.

So basically, if I wanted to continue being seen there, I would have to pay $125 a visit. This made me very upset. When I went back to see my doctor I was crying and pissed off and practically on the verge of having a break down. He seemed rather angry about the whole thing himself. He was very concerned for my well-being, asking me several times if I was okay to leave and what not. Unfortunately, it is not a private practice. He doesn't make the rules. So he couldn't do anything to help me.

Fast forward a few days. I managed to get through it without falling into a pit of depression, which is good. I went to anthem's website and found a list of providers that were supposed to accept my insurance. So I started calling them.

95% of the numbers were disconnected, or if someone did answer they didn't recognize the doctors names. The only place that did answer was Park View, which is a place in Jeffersonville. They have several doctors on staff. Only one catch. They DO accept my insurance, but only for CURRENT clients. They are not accepting NEW clients with MY insurance. So if I wanted to be seen there, I would have to pay cash.

Oh, and apparently I had been seen there before and I owed them $41, which would have to be paid before they would schedule me.

Their prices are $195 for the first visit, then $70 for each visit afterward. I cannot afford that any more than I can afford the Lifespring fees. Luckily, my mother has said she would pay for the visits because she knows I need them. So I have an appointment for Dr. Saeed on the 29th of October.

I'm a little nervous about my first visit, which I'm sure will only get worse the day I actually go in. I'm sure by then my nerves will be shot and I'll be a wreck. Anyway, there are a few things I definitely need to bring up during the first visit.

Number one: I need to get new scripts for all my medication.

Number two: I want off cymbalta completely. I'd rather go back to Lexapro because I know my insurance covers it. They only covered cymbalta after three weeks of deliberation and if the dosage is changed or anything we'll have to go through it all over again. It's just too much hastle.

Number three: Ambien. I'm currently on 5mg of Ambien for sleep problems. Unfortunately, it does absolutely dick for me. I've taken it a handful of times now and usually just end up staring at the wall like I normally do. I took it last night and played an hour-long game on NBA 2k10 without ever feeling even slightly impaired or tired.

Number four: ADHD. Before I the whole mess with my previous pdoc, we had talked about me possibly having attention problems. Here are some of the Adult symptoms of the Impulsive type of ADHD. The italicized symptoms are ones I experience normally.

Chooses highly active, stimulating jobs
Avoids situations with low physical activity or sedentary work
May choose to work long hours or two jobs
Seeks constant activity
Easily bored
Intolerant to frustration, easily irritated
Impulsive, snap decisions and irresponsible behaviors
Loses temper easily, angers quickly

Obviously this doesn't mean I have ADHD. Some of those could be due to my anxiety as well as hypomania, both of which I suffer from. But I do have issues with sitting down and doing one thing. I try to watch a television show and five minutes later I have to run into the other room to get on the computer. Not because I'm expecting anything or because I want to look up something, but simply because I need to do something else.

There's a drug called Adderall which is supposed to help a lot with attention problems. I want to talk to the new doctor about this. But I'm worried that because I am a new patient he will not be willing to jump on board with it. I'm pretty sure that my former pdoc would have listened to me and considered what I am saying, but I know doctors are always hesitant to prescribe controlled substances to new patients.

All in all, I know I still have a lot of problems. Xanax doesn't seem to help much anymore, even at 1mg at a time. I've thought about taking more but I don't want to get into that habit. Good news is that I haven't had a bout of depression/hypomania since the last one where I hurt myself which is good.

Okay. That's enough for tonight.


I'm sad and lonely but I have a hard time admitting this to anyone, not even to myself. I feel overwhelmed by every little thing. Last night I did something stupid and carved my arm up because I thought it would make me feel better. In one sense it did. It let out all the shit I have inside of me. But afterwards I felt ashamed and mad at myself for doing it.

Tiffany took me to the hospital. I never really like going but I understand that sometimes I need to go so I didn't fight it. I know when I feel bad. I'm aware of it even if I can't do anything about it.

So we went and I nearly had a panic attack in the library because my social anxiety was in overdrive due to all the people in the waiting room, on top of the fact that my arm was a bleeding mess. Luckily I didn't have to sit out there more than ten minutes before they ushered me back to the loony ward. I have to say though, it was a lot better than when I went to U of L. First of all, they allowed Tiffany to come back and sit in the little room with me. Second of all, there weren't drunk criminals all over the place like at U of L.

We were there about three and a half hours before they decided not to admit me. I'm glad they didn't. I really didn't feel like being there all alone by myself. It would have been even worse than how I was already feeling. Besides, I had already hurt myself. I already felt so terrible about doing it that I knew I wouldn't do it again any time soon.

Today I'm still feeling down, though not as bad as I was last night. So I called into work. I sorta lied and said I was still in the hospital as I felt like that would make explaining it a lot easier. But now I feel bad for lying. Oh well. I guess I'm lucky to have a job that understands what I have to deal with.

I'm Sorry

Metallica Concert

So I had my mini-vacation this week. Tuesday we went to Cincinnati to see Metallica. Somehow I've managed to never see one of my favorite bands in concert even though I've had several opportunities. I finally was able to cross them off my list.

It wasn't without its trials, however. Sitting through the first two bands I wasn't feeling that well. I got a really bad tension headache because I was stressing out about all the people. I did that stupid thing I do where I think everyone is staring at me, wondering why I'm not enjoying things as much as them, judging me and looking down at me.

All in all, any discomfort I experienced was worth it. Metallica was amazing. I really can't put the experience into words. They are as damn near perfect live as I've ever seen.

Also, in the news, Tiffany's friend (and mine) Brandi came up to visit to go with us to Cincy and to have a little mini-vacation of her own. Seeing her and Tiff together made me kind of sad that she lives so far away. She really is the only real, true friend Tiffany has that she doesn't know through me. Some of her friends are okay, some of them I actually like, but none of them are ever really there for her. I wish Brandi lived closer if only so that Tiff could have her best friend all year long.


Tonight is the night we've been looking forward to since February. Tonight we will travel to Cincinnati to see Metallica. It seems so long ago that we bought the tickets that it is hard to believe that it's finally here. Oddly enough, I'm not really that excited (though I'm sure that will change after Lamb of God finishes their set).

I'm a little worried about all the people that will be there, but things like this usually don't bother me. But if that changes I'll just take a xanax or two. Maybe I'll post a couple pictures.


I use to be on lexapro. But at my second-to-last pdoc appointment he decided to switch me over to Cymbalta. At the time he just gave me a bunch of samples until my next appointment. When I went to see him then, he gave me a prescription for it.

When I went to fill it, it came back as a prior authorization, which basically means for whatever reason the insurance company doesn't want to cover it under normal circumstances. In this case, Cymbalta isn't a "preferred drug." They would much rather me take something else (something a little less expensive).

Now, I have to say first and foremost, the place I see my psychiatrist and psychologist at is very poorly organized and they are constantly running days behind schedule on everything. So it took five days to even hear back from the nurse in regards to the prior authorization. At that point she said she called my insurance and got it approved.

My pharmacist once again attempted to run the script through, and once again it was denied.

The major problem here is that I've already started taking the medication, and it is not something I can simply stop taking without going into withdrawal.

So today I called the nurse back to basically beg for some more samples to hold me over until this gets sorted out. And of course, she doesn't answer her phone. I leave a message, and of course she doesn't ever call me back. I'm really starting to get sick and tired of the way things work at their office. I really like my psychiatrist (my psychologist is okay, though I do prefer the one I had originally). He's done a lot to help me. But at some point they better get their act together or I'll be forced to go somewhere else.

Leave Me Alone

I didn't want to go out. I just wanted to stay home and relax. All weekend has been about everyone else. Maybe I just wanted a night for myself. But as usual that is too much to ask.
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People Everywhere

So last night our roommate had a bunch of people over for Part 1 of his birthday celebration. There were about twenty people cramped into our small living room as we watched ridiculously bad movies. Unfortunately, that many people in such a confined space, even though they were people I know, set off a nice little bout of social anxiety. I felt like the air was being sucked out of the room and that everyone was judging me because I was being quiet and not taking part in the festivities. I ended up having to take two xanax to calm down and not freak out, which helped a lot but made me a little drowsy. By the time the last movie was started I was already ready for bed. I made it through though, but just barely.

Part 2 is tonight, which means another large group of people. Hopefully I get through it a little better this time.

Bad Night

I had a bad night last night. I felt like I was going up and down and up and down over and over again. It wouldn't stop. One moment I would be in tears the next moment I was a ball of anger and frustration. Not over anything in particular, but over everything that I could think of. It started while I was at work yesterday. I kept it to myself pretty much so no one else would notice that anything was wrong, but it got to the point that I bought a razor blade. I planned on cutting myself that night after everyone had gone to bed.

I got so worked up that I threw my dinner away that I had just cooked and shoved my girlfriend out of the way and ran into the room. I sat alone for twenty minutes or so just steaming over everything, getting more and more worked up. Then she came in and tried to talk to me. I don't remember all of the conversation but I remember going from one extreme to the other, being a crying mess and then angry and hateful.

At one point I got the razor out of my bag when she wasn't paying attention. I thought about just jabbing it into my arm. I didn't want to kill myself. I just needed to let it all out. To let all the anger out because it was killing me to hold it in.

She came over and sat down beside me and I hid the blade. Several minutes passed and then I forced myself to give her the razor. I knew it was wrong what I wanted to do, and for a brief moment reason won out. We talked for a little bit. I tried to take the razor back from her but she got away and got rid of it. I'm ashamed of myself for how I acted. It was like I lost control of myself for short little bursts.

I got really upset afterward and suggested maybe I should go to the hospital. But then I got really angry with her because she wasn't sure whether or not I should go. It took a lot for me to even suggest going and then when she acted like I might not need to go I took it personally and I became irate with her. She thought I was just playing some game with her, like I wanted to go the hospital but I wouldn't just say it. But I didn't want to go to the hospital. I hate the hospital I hate going there. I hate how it makes me feel. But I also recognized that I was out of control and I probably needed to go.

We ended up not going and instead just tried to go to sleep. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned for hours upon hours. I still feel like a ball of energy and it's really fucking annoying. All in all, I probably got 2 to 3 hours of sleep.

I didn't go to work today. I had her call my boss and tell them why I couldn't come in. I'm not in any shape to go to work.

Can't Sleep

Can't sleep. Can't sleep. Can't sleep. All I do is toss and turn. Nothing helps. I just want to go to sleep but all I can think about is getting up and running around.

Fucking Bitch

I swear if that fucking bitch gives me any more of her fucking attitude I'm going to fucking tell her off. I'm not going to just sit and take it like everyone else.
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Labor Day

It's so nice to have a job where I actually get days off, no matter how mind-numbingly boring it is. So this week I got a four day weekend. Only bad part is I was asked to work this coming Friday since I'm getting Monday off. Should be fine I suppose. I can't really afford to miss the extra six hours of pay. But at the same time I was looking forward to a three day work week. Oh well.

In other news, Metallica is right around the corner. September 15th. I need to remind my boss on Tuesday that I need the 15th off. It's going to suck for them but oh well. This has been planned since February and there's no chance I'm missing it. Despite all the chances I've had, I've never seen Metallica in concert and I'm fucking pumped about going. The one thing that I'm not looking forward to is going to Cincinnati (as I hate that city), as well as all the people who will be there (I can feel the social anxiety creeping in already). But that's why I have xanax.


A lot has happened. Let's catch up.

I quit my job.

I was unemployed for about a month or so. During which time I went through a bout of depression followed by hypomania.

I was taken off Depakote because it made me gain about forty pounds.

I was taken off Lexapro and moved to Cymbalta.

My abilify dose was halved due to possible reactions with Cymbalta.

I found a new job at a pharmacy that I worked before. It's very boring and I find myself wanting to scratch my eye balls out sometimes but at the end of the day it's very easy. I suffered a panic attack my second day there as I felt very overwhelmed by the people coming in and the constant ringing of the phone but I got through it. I'm only working twenty four hours a week, which is hard on the wallet but I'm getting by. I'm really hoping social security comes through in October/November, but I'm sure I'll be denied on my first run.

At my recent psychiatrist appointment, my doctor put bipolar back on the table as my diagnosis. I never really considered it off the table, but as we discussed, the reason it was taken off the table was because I seem to have an issue with telling the whole truth at my appointments. Apparently my control issues keep me from divulging everything out of fear that I am giving up control over myself, he thought, which makes a lot of sense.

With bipolar back on the table came a new drug: Lamictal. Before we decided on this, he offered me a whole range of medications. He told me about their side-effects and how some of them would require frequent blood tests, such as the case with Lithium. Lamictal sounded the most promising for several reasons.

1: It doesn't require any blood tests.

2: It is most effective in treatment of bipolar depression, which is a much larger problem for me than mania.

3: It doesn't include weight gain as possible side effects, and generally its side effects are less than that of the other drugs.

However, he did warn me about a possible side effect that causes the layers of skin to separate and develop into a rash of lesions. It is very, very rare. However, my brain is retarded. And no matter how rare it is, I am now freaking out about the whole thing, which is causing me to hold off on taking the first dose. I have no reason to suspect that I will suffer from this reaction, but I'm worried about it nonetheless. Worry, worry, worry. That's all I do, it seems.

I wish I knew some other people who are on this medication to talk about it with.

Work Again

So I had today what I would consider my worst day ever at my current employment. Everything was chaotic and everyone was busy ripping shit up and cleaning and basically trying to turn the place into a completely different work enviorment for some investors that are coming next week. With all my bosses gone that I had grown to appreciate and, for the most part, like, I now face a new set of managers who have to walk in step with the corporate line because if they don't they'll be gone just like my old boss.

It's really aggrivating to me the way things have turned out. I really don't know what else to say. I wish I could find another job fast but who knows how things will go. Not to mention the fact that I have no idea how a new job would even turn out. It makes me sad that things have come to this.

The Long Road to Relaxation

I am restless. Not just the normal "I'm bored and I wish I had something to do" kind of restless. More like the "I feel like jabbing my eyeballs out" kind of restless. I easily could find something to do or somewhere to go if I truly wanted to but at the end of the day I don't really want to do anything. Unfortunately that is only adding to this overwhelming feeling that I am wasting every second of my time doing nothing productive and I might as well just keel over.

There's been a lot of bad shit going on at work lately, too much to really get into, but needless to say it has caused me a lot of excess stress which I have been dealing with about as well as one could expect. I've had good days and bad days. One moment things don't seem as bad as I think the next they are ten times worse. I guess I can only just wait it through and see what happens for now, but the uncertainty really frustrates me. That, more than anything, makes me just want to give up and find a new job. I need stability, not confusion. My life is unstable enough without work being a giant pile of shit.

In other news, I've slowly but surely started working on my SSI forms. It's kind of a pain in the ass, and it doesn't help to know that I'm going to immediately be rejected. It's hard to motivate yourself when you know failure is the first in a long line of steps toward getting the help I need. Oh well. What else can I do?

No Subject

I tire of the monotony of life.

I feel like shit

So I'm physically ill, which makes things even harder to deal with on the mental side of things. So let's just get this little story started. First, I had an appointment with a MD today. It wasn't my normal doctor because he is on vacation, so I had to see the other guy. He was fine enough, gave me some antibiotics and some better cough medicine, or so I thought. I get to the drug store and apparently the cough syrup he prescribed was just OTC tussin DM. Thanks. I totally could have bought that on my own.

When I started to think about it, I decided that I think the reason why he did that was he because he wasn't comfortable giving me a narcotic cough reliever. After all, I'm crazy, right? He sees Depakote and Abilify and all that other stuff and assumes I might be just seeking codeine or something to self medicate. That's really the only thing I can think of. Why else would he waste my time with giving me robatussin? The fucked up thing is I've never been a "self medicator" in that sense. Yes, I've bought and used OTC products before when I probably didn't need to. There were times in my life that I practically lived off of OTC cough syrup because I was convinced I couldn't breath without it. But I've never done that with prescription drugs.

Oh well.

He told me to call back in Monday if I'm not feeling better as my doctor might change that he gave me, which is what made me think this doctor was holding back on me.


I have noticed lately a lot of feelings of being alone. I realize that I'm not. I have people who care for me, including a wonderful fiance, but I still find myself at times drifting into this horrible thought that I am alone, by myself, with no one around me who can understand even a little bit what I am going through. The problem with feeling alone is that it can quickly turn into feeling lonely, which is a whole different beast.

I'm still going through a lot of hard times mentally. I get through them a little easier now with the drugs I'm on, but that doesn't mean I still don't struggle. Lately I've noticed this problem with being unable at times to distinguish dreams from reality. Like, I'll dream about some scenario at work, and the next day I'll find myself having to try and decide whether or not it really happened or not. It's usually not a big deal, but it seems to bother me more when I feel like my mood is a little out of wack.

I've been reading about derealization lately and find that it sounds very familiar. There are times when I'm just walking around at home, at work, at the grocery or wherever - familair places that seem odd to me, like somehow they are off. I remember when I lived in New York, I would go out at night or something by myself to go to the 711 or something and I would get this extrasensory feeling that I was walking through some dream world. I still get that feeling sometimes.

Not to mention the fact that I still, even with all the drugs I am on, am dealing with a lot of deja vu moments and situations where I think I see things that aren't there. It's never anything major, like hallucinating a person that isn't real, but just little glimpses, like I'm looking into another world or something, if only for just a split second.

Anyway, I got off subject. Back to feeling alone. I feel detached from everyone lately. I do my best to be warm and caring to my girlfriend, and I mean every bit of it, but sometimes I just find myself staring at her not knowing how to act or what to say or what to do. I worry about that, a lot actually. I worry that I'm not going to be able to be what she needs. I need to tell her this. I'm sure she'll think just that when she reads this. But I have a hard time explaining all of this verbally. It is so much easier to just sit and right it down as it comes to me. Plus, it seems like everything is magnified when I'm alone. So I can better explain how I feel.

I think it's time for sleep. I need to call in and get another appointment with my therapist tomorrow. Last time they gave me some hubub about maybe having to pay the full amount for appointments even though I qualified for their financial assistance. Apparently, because I went and got state assistance, they don't think they can offer me the 80% coverage, even though they don't accept my state-issued insurance. Well, I don't really understand it. At this point I guess I'll just see what happens. If I have to switch to new doctors somewhere else, I'll be very upset. I like my psychiatrist. He's very nice and smart and has done very good by me so far.

I still think about hurting myself. But I have kept myself from doing it with the excuse that I don't have anything acceptable, which is true, but also not. I could go out and by an exacto knife, for instance, but that would raise some suspicions at 1 in the morning. I'll just get by. Tomorrow is going to be awful but I just need to get through the day and then the rest of the week will be a lot easier.

I'm a black rainbow.

Trying to decide whether or not to cancel my appointment with my "temporary" therapist on Thursday. I don't really have the extra money to pay for it and I don't really know what it will do to go anyway.

Help Needed, but not Wanted

So I've made the first few steps in applying for federal help when it comes to my problems. I spoke to a lawyer and they told me to go ahead and apply for benifits. They expect that I will get denied, and once I do they will take over the case. I don't have to pay anything unless they win, and whatever I owe is taken out of back pay. So that is good.

At this point it is the only option I can see. I am just very tired of all of it myself. Tired of barely being able to live on what I make because the moment something changes with my schedule I freak the fuck out. The moment I have to work just a little bit more I feel like my whole world is crashing in on me. And this is coming from a job that I actually ENJOY doing. I think back to all the jobs I had that I walked out on or quit without notice because I finally couldn't take it anymore and I realize how lucky I am to have a job that allows me to work alone without anyone bothering me with plenty of downtime.
Ohhh I forgot to write about how I went to see my therapist the other day. Funny thing, I haven't seen her in over a month (normally I go every two weeks) but my appt kept getting moved. So I go in there and the lady at the front desk calls me up and apologises but my psychologist is no longer with them and that I will have to wait till I am assigned to a new one.

Thanks on that. I'm totally okay and everything and don't need any help at all. That's fine. Thanks. You know what? Go fuck yourselves. How about that. How about you fucking die. No one bothered to pick up a fucking phone and call her clients and tell them "hey, guess what, don't drive all the way in here because she's gone." Way to go you fucking moronic pieces of shit.

I hate how I feel

Last few weeks, in particular, have been hard. I've had this constant problem with being depressed, but at the same time I can't sit still. And if I do sit still, I feel like my muscles are dying or something. Physically I'm tired, but mentally my mind is going a mile a minute.

I just want it to stop.

On the advice of my mother, I am toiling over the idea of meeting with a disability attorney, and possibily looking into getting government assistance. I'm tired of financially being a burden on everyone. I'm tired of not having any options. And the more I think about it, the more disability seems to be my only option to have any sort of enjoyable life.

Right now, there is very little enjoyment in mine.

I've been thinking a lot lately about hurting myself. Cutting. Not anything permanent, mind you. Suicide isn't an option, and I doubt it ever will be. But I understand why someone would go that far a lot more these days than I would have a few years ago. There comes a point where everything just becomes too much to handle.

Every night I dread going to sleep because it has become more and more difficult for me to be comfortable in attempting to just lay still and go to sleep.

Long Time, No Blog

Haven't updated in a while. Generally I haven't felt the need to. Anyway, moving along. This weekend we had a party for my fiance's birthday. I really hate the fact that I'm really not supposed to drink. Here's the thing. I've never been a big drinker. But I like to partake on occassion. So not being able to, especially when I put effort into making a tasty drink for everyone else, annoys me. So I had two glasses of alcoholic punch.

No big deal. No crazy effects. But now it's time for bed. Normally I would take my depakote and abilify right now. However, I am worried about taking them because of those glasses of alcohol I had several hours earlier. This probably sounds weird, because I know there are people who openly drink while taking these medications even though it is advised against, but I'm worried that I'm just going to end up causing some horrible damage to my liver because of it and this one dose could be what does it. So now I'm trying to decide whether to just skip the dose or not.


So I've been on depakote now for a while and I still feel like I'm in a fog on many days. Today, for instance, I slept a good ten hours because I was off. And yet here it is, at 6 p.m., and I'm feeling drowsy and could easily fall asleep if I wanted to. I know this is a side effect of the drug and things have been a lot better since I started it, but I hate feeling like this every day.

Psychiatrist Appt Today

So had a weird day at the psychiatrist. I was getting aggrivated because he kept pushing for me to explain why I thought throwing a can of soup on the windshield of our car was so funny. I don't know why it was so funny. I wasn't thinking clearly. I know he wanted to see if there was something else there but so be it.

Further more, he apparently isn't convinced that I actually have bipolar disoarder. He obviously believes I have mood issues and a whole range of other problems, but isn't dead set on lumping me in the bipolar category yet. I'm sort of annoyed by this. While I wasn't happy to hear the original idea that I might be or am bipolar, at least I could get some satisfaction of knowing what I was and what to look out for. Now I am back in a grey area, something I've been in for years and years now.

He added Abilify to my list of medications. That should be fun.

I'm tired

I haven't taken my medication today and I don't fucking want to. I want to shove those fucking pills down someone elses throat. I'm just so fucking tired of this game. I will never be anything but a broken toy, not fit for society's expextations.
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I don't understand

Before I started seeing my current doctors, I applied for financial assistance because I cannot afford the help I need. Apparently my mother has been getting bills from them. She didn't tell me until yesterday because she was going to pay them knowing I didn't have it.

The fucked up thing is, I don't understand how I owe anything. I was told that all I would owe would be %20 of the cost of each visit. 20 for the therapist and 25 for the psychiatrist. And I've been paying that. Every two weeks for the psychologist and every month or so for the psychiatrist.

But apparently there are other charges. For instance, every time I have called the nurse that is twetny dollars. Like whem my shrink canceled my appt and I needed refills. Twenty dollars. And I've had to call her a couple of times so those have added up and so bow I guess I owe a back log of 85 bucks, which isn't awful but that's not the point. I feel deceived and pissed off. What the fuck is the point of even trying to get help?

I'm tired of all of this.

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I want to just shove nails under my fingernails right now I am so aggrivated. I don't understand the point of making someone feel guilty because you think they are ignoring you. Making me feel guilty is only going to actually piss me the fuck right off and make me NOT want to be around someone. I'm in a terrible fucking mood, I want to rip my throat open because of my stupid fucking tonsils still bothering me, and I can't even spend a quiet day at home. I have to fucking stand up on a stool and announce how joyful I am that my girlfriend is home. Yes, she had a shitty fucking day at work. Yes, she deserves to be given attention. But maybe instead of just making me feel guilty about it she should, oh I don't know, take some initiative and try talking to me instead of giving me fucking attitude. Seriously, right now I want to fucking slit my wrists open just so I can stop fucking feeling any of this. My throat, the attitude, this fucking bullshit weather, time just slipping away like it always does, it's all just so fucking pointless and ridiculous. Why do we even bother with any of it? We're a dying race of morons, running in hampster wheels, content to just keep on running and never stopping and wondering WHY we're running. Fuck you. Fuck all of you. You are all fucking pathetic and I want to fucking smash your faces in. I'm tired of all of this shit. I just want to have ONE FUCKING MINUTE for myself where I do not feel like I'm being pulled in every fucking direction, even by my own fucking stupid twisted brain that can't just IGNORE MY FUCKING TONSILS like it is supposed to do but instead it just keeps on reminding me that they are back there, tickling the back of my throat, making me feel like I am going to choke on them even though they are perfectly fine when I look at them.


Fear and Loathing

Sometimes when I'm alone I get this strange feeling that I am being watched. Or like today, I was driving to work and I kept flinching at the same spot of dirt on the window because I kept thinking it was something trying to get me.
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General Anxiety Bullshit

The last week or so I've been having a lot of problems with anxiety.  Mostly it has to do with this nagging feeling in the back of my throat.  It's like all of a sudden my brain decided to stop ignoring my tonsils and now I feel like I am constantly choking on them.

I've been bad about sticking to my xanax directions.  I've been taking only half a pill, and more often than not only taking it once or twice a day.  I was doing this to cut down on any added drowsiness that I was already feeling because of the depakote but now I wonder if I am paying for that.

Either way it is making it quite the chore to fall asleep, because I'm worried that I'm going to suffocate in my sleep because my throat is going to close up.

General Update

Nothing really to report lately.  It seems that I have leveled out through the last week, which is good.  Tiffany thinks it's the depakote starting to work, which it may very well be.  I guess we will wait and see.  I have been in a better mood lately.  Still battling the drowsiness but what can you do.

I'm mildly annoyed that it seems like I have had no time to just relax this weekend.  Friday we went out for our anniversery, which was fun, but then Saturday we had to go to a party, which was also fun, but it just seemed to really suck any relaxation I normally could have gotten.  And then today just flew out the window and here it is already almost 1 in the morning and I have to go to bed soon.

Luckily, I'm off Tuesday.  I was scheduled at first (which would mean I would have had to work through the entire week for the first time in months) but I got that changed.  I think I might have buckled a little having to jump right in to that many hours in a row.


So I thought I was starting to get past the drowsiness of the Depakote, but apparently not. The last three days I have been drowsy as fuck all. Not sure what to do except keep trying to push through it.


I had a strange, unsettling nightmare last night.  I dreamt that we lived in some futuristic apartment building that was controled by an A.I. system.  The system had a female identity, with a voice and face that followed you pretty much everywhere.

For some strange reason, I dreamt that this A.I. system became obsessed with me.  At one point it tried to either frighten or kill me when I entered an elevator by making it rush down and up the length of the building.  I was very startled by this moment in the dream and remember waking up out of a dead sleep with a heavy, pounding heart.  After a few moments, I laid my head down and continued the dream, not to wake up again that I can recall.

The pounding, racing heart now worries me.  Was I choking in the night, perhaps?  Can nightmares alone cause this physical symptom, or was the nightmare a reaction to me being in some physical distress while I was asleep?  I've had this dreadful fear of sleep apnea for a long time now, and any time anyone says they hear me snoring I quickly ask how bad it was, etc etc.  What if I stopped breathing in the night, which caused the tachycardia?  I'm afraid to go to sleep, afraid that I'll go into cadiac arrest and die without even the chance to fight.

My allergies have also been bothering me lately, which claritin being very choosey about when it is helping and not.  Thing that really sucks is that it's not quite hot enough to warrant turning on the AC, so we have to leave all the windows open even when the grass is being cut, which just makes things ten times worst.

General Bullshit

Today is payday. Normally a good day. Except it has been quite a while since I have had a full ten day pay check. Lately it has been 6 or 7 days, which has considerably eaten into free cash that I have, which in turn has considerably eaten into any enjoyment I can glean from spending sprees, which I do thoroughly enjoy.

So far I have managed to keep up on bills, which I know is important, including groceries. But it really sucks that I am immediately broke and can't even go out and get something to eat.

It also sucks because it felt like I was coming out of my funk that I've been in the last few weeks, but now I am instantly annoyed at the whole situation.

25 years or less

10 years on average is how long it takes someone to be diagnosed with bipolar disorder.  I started showing signs of mental illness late in highschool, and for much of the next eleven years I was misdiagnosed and undertreated.  I went through long stretches of unemployment when I would quit and leave jobs after I couldn't handle the pressure or stress any longer.  I lived off my mother until I was in my late twenties but I am still not fully independent.

For eleven years, I thought I had Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder, Social Anxiety Disorder and Major Depression.  That was the diagnosis I received from a psychiatrist I seen for only four months because I couldn't afford to keep paying 60 dollars a month, especially when I only came in to get a refill of my lexapro.  He never investigated my issues further.  I would sit down and he would write out fresh scripts.  He'd ask me how I was doing that day, but not in a diagnostic way.  More in a way you would ask someone you pass in the hall.

So after four months, I stopped going, and I went to my primary care physician and asked him to take over the scripts.  He did, but I continued for the next several years that my primary problem was anxiety, and that it was the driving force behind all my problems.

I went off my antidepressents in early 2008 because I no longer had a primary care physician to maintain my script and I was convinced that I could manage it on my own.  It was only anxiety and panic.  And I hadn't felt major depression in months.  I was happy.  I had started dating someone I truly loved.  We were moving in together.  Everything was working out.

But with happiness, comes added stress.

In August, I became ill.  A bad case of broncitis and everything changed.  Suddenly my world crashed around me.  I was miserably depressed, convinced that I had varying degrees of terrible, awful diseases, worried that at any moment I could just stop breathing because my lungs couldn't take the pain anymore.  There were times where the pain was so bad I wanted to die.  I started missing more and more days at work.  Paychecks wittled down to nothing.  Five visits to the emergency room finally lead me to getting a new primary care physician.

He has been much better than my old pcp.  He seems to genuinely care about my health.  After trying several medications to treat what I thought was a major lung disease, he was convinced that my problem was more mental than physical.  He put me on lexapro (a drug I was familiar with, and also preferred) as well as Ativan.

For a while it helped.  The anxiety and panic went away.  The depression went away.  There was a month or so where I felt like my old self again.

Then it came crashing back down.

First, it began with a little chest discomfort.  Then the depression hit.  The sadness.  The hopelessness.  I would never get better.  I could never be normal again.  I went back to the doctor and he decided I needed more help than what he could provide, and so he sent me to a mental health facility.

I procrastinated, but finally after three months I began seeing a psychologist and a psychiatrist.  My first meeting was with the therapist.  She was very nice and although I was very nervous and shaking the entire time, I did enjoy talking to her.  We went through a little survey that was designed to help her proceed with my care, during which time I told her about my problems with anxiety, panic attacks, social anxiety, and depression.  I told her that I believed that my anxiety was the cause of everything, and that it has always been my biggest problem.  She talked to me about breathing excercises and about using them to "reset" my body's fight or flight system every day.  She also set up an appointment to meet with the psychiatrist to change the medication I was on.

When I met the pharmacist, I new right away I would like him.  He asked a lot of questions, but not in a way that I found irritating (which is a problem I have).  I don't like questions that require a lot of explanation.  His were very yes or no, and only asking for further input when necessary.

Then he asked about bipolar disorder, if I knew what it was, and if I had ever been asked about it.

I told him I knew what it was, and that I did not have it.  I had problems with depression, but bipolar was a no.  People with bipolar disorder are crazy, out of their minds, and do insane things, or at least that's how I perceived it.  I didn't see any of my past actions as "crazy" or "insane".  I ignore about how I begged a friend who started dating my ex in highschool to stab me with his knife or jumped in front of their car as they sped away.  How I walked out of countless jobs after I became so frusted and worked up and couldn't take it anymore.  How I thought about killing myself even though I didn't think it would ever happen because nothing scares me more than actually dying.

He asked me a few questions, the answers to which he found very interesting, then had me fill out a little yes/no survey that helps determine if someone could be bipolar.  I circled yes on nearly all of them.  He showed it to me and said "do you see why I could think you might be bipolar?"

It was black and white, in my face.  I couldn't deny the possibility.  And worst of all, it made sense more than any other explanation.

That was three months ago.  Since then, I have had my medication adjusted.  I am now on Depakote 1000mg a day, Lexapro 20 mg a day, Xanax .5 three times a day, as well as prilosec 40mg a day for indegestion caused by stress.

People with bipolar disorder statistically live 25 to 30 years less than the average person.  1 in 5 succeed in committing suicide.  Others die of cardiovascular problems due to the stress living with a lifetime disease can bring.  Nothing can fix me.  There is no cure.  To stay stable, I will have to take medication for the rest of my life.  Welcome to bipolar.