I've had times when I've been very angry and screamed at people and had no idea that I was manic! I don't KNOW I'm delusional when I'm delusional. I want the crazies to stop. I want the others that I'm screaming at to stop screaming at ME! It never occurs to me that they might be screamign back at my screaming. EIther way, its not good. I left a fight like that once and took my car out and drove to a drug store, calling my sister telling her
Everything we think seems like the absolute truth. Our brains would never lie to us. If I sit here thinking about how I have to pay two months' rent at once next month, then I get anxious that I will spend the money that I need on other things. Sometimes, I sit and my brain tells me that I'm stupid, or worthless, or terrific, the queen of the world, or like this past month when I was applying for and getting things situated for this new apartment. I was sure the people that work for the complex didn't want me and were going to never call me or they'd tell me that I called too much. But then I just "freaked out" and worried and worried! I was SURE things were going to go all wrong! But they didn't. It took patience (ha!) and finally, my move-in day was here and the apartment was inspected right when we needed it to be and there was no lag between the movers packing the truck and when we were driving over to the new apartment complex. All that worry for nothing! And I've been here three days and nobody has bothered me. This feels like the absolute truth. Having a new apartment that I love and that is the absolute truth. How do I know what the absolute truth truly is? It is in that moment when we feel an emotion, or two, that twist our thoughts into something they may not have intended to be. Everything we think is the absolute truth - to us, at that moment in time, and we go moment to moment with thought after thought. When I am psychotic, that is the absolute truth- seeing my face as a monster in the mirror, thinking I am invincible, thinking I am a genius and can write the world's masterpiece, that God is telling me that secrets of the universe, that is my absolute truth. Now. Always in the now. Each now to each now. It is my truth.
Client seen today at xxxx for first time and was previously followed at xxxx but due to intensive treatment needs, will be followed by XXX and client was initially confused about the change and confirmed understanding after writer's explanation. [pdoc]
She recently was hospitalized at UM 9C 10/1-10/10 for SI [suicidal ideation], mania, psychosis and had zyprexa increased to 10 mg during admission then was at XX 11/12 for SI, psychosis.
Today she denies AH/VH/IOR/paranoia, endorses stable mood without hypomania or mania, low anxiety and depression energy, & appetite normal no wight changes, sleeps 8 hours, memory is variable and low at times.
She has history of mania with psychosis - VH-sees animals. "cat disappearing." AH [audio hallucinations] "someone talking, music playing" referential delusion-"sun giving me messages, I could fly". Grandiose delusions-I was invincible, could walk into traffic and nothing would happen", elevated and irritable mood-"everything is wonderful", agitation- "moving a lot," occasional thoughts of wanting to stab herself "reported this was a chronic issue that did not increase her desire to commit suicide," or inflict self-harm.
Client is not sure why she had episode this fall or last fall because she notes medication adherence and also remarked the last year in November, she had another manic/psychotic period and thinks the fall may be a bad time for her. Per [hospital] admission note during her two weeks prior to hospitalization, client was posting multiple blogs [I just have this one blog.] and writing more, internal restlessness, almost jumping off balcony, increased pressure to talk and stay up past midnight on phone with friends, racing thoughts, low concentration, increased energy, appetite decreased, mildly decreased sleep....
11/26/13
CURRENT SIDE EFFECTS< ADHERENCE ISSUES AND PREVIOUS MEDICATION TRIALS
latuda trial - akathisia, w 20mg dose
fanapt - tachycardia w 4mg dose
depakote - weight gain, worked well
seroquel - itching
nortriptiline
abilify - akathisia
geodon - induced asthma attack
saphris - "internal hallucinations"
I saw my psychiatrist a few weeks ago. Everything seemed fine. Then, I began having symptoms: bouncing around, twirling in circles, increased interest in sex, sleeping only an hour or two every night for about 5 days straight. I told my psychiatrist about my symptoms and she agreed with me that I sounded manic. She increased my Zyprexa and lithium and decreased my Zoloft. A few days went by and the med increase didn't seem to be helping.
Sunday came around and I was hanging out with my eldest son having coffee at Starbucks. For some reason I was having intrusive thoughts. I've had them many times before but always was able to ignore them or redirect my thinking. I began to visualize taking many Benedryl pills. The thought was inviting. It was calling to me. I went home. The first thing I did was get out the bottle of Benedryl. The bottle was half full, swimming with tablets. I turned the top over and filled it with all the little pink invitations.
"One... two... three... four..." I kept count. No thought other than I MUST take them. "Twenty-eight... twenty-nine... thirty." The top was empty. I felt fine. I had called the after-hours help line a few days before to talk. They'd said to call any time. I called. I told the man who answered that I'd just taken the pills. "Hang up and call 911," he said calmly. In a few minutes, the police, ambulance and firetruck were outside my door. The police knocked and came in. Asked me questions. They wanted to put me in the police car but the female officer said there was no air conditioning. The other officer asked if my kids were home and I said my youngest was upstairs. He knocked on my son's door and asked him if he was going to be okay at home alone as they were taking me to the hospital.
We went to the closest hospital in the ambulance as the one I usually go to would've added another 15 minutes to the trip. I stayed in the ER for quite a while. They didn't want me to get out of bed. I had to use a "bedside commode" with people watching. In another room, I sat on the side of a hospital bed. When I stood up, the room started spinning and my head swirled. The feeling overtook me and I suddenly realized, "I'm going to faint!" I sat back down on the bed quickly and felt better.
After not too long, I was admitted to the 4th floor. I was given an IV of fluids that was set on "fastest" in order to flush the drug from my system. I had a heart monitor with lots of wires stuck to my chest. My symptoms began to get worse. My mouth was dry (a sign of a Benedryl overdose). I was starting to not be able to talk. I'd think of something to say, my mouth would start the sentence and half way through I'd forget what I was going to say as my mouth dragged itself through molasses. A friend came to visit but I fell asleep during our conversation. I still had to use the commode. I was a "fall risk". After about 8 bags of fluid, they finally unhooked me and I was sent to the psych floor.
Since this was a new hospital to me, I was unfamiliar with how this psych floor worked. The first day, I slept for hours, trying to make up for the 5 days I hadn't slept. I saw the psychiatrist and nurses. I was brought meds twice a day and fed three times a day. I talked with the other patients about tattoos and jail. I started going to groups and after 2 days they were talking about sending me home already.
Since I've been home, I've felt misunderstood, kind of confused and tired. I also am a bit confused about my meds. However, since I last wrote, I did get my own place and that has been very nice. Oh and one more important thing: I was not depressed when I took the pills. I was manic. I know its counter-intuative but there it is. I have lost one friend over this episode: he said I was lying when I told him why I took the pills. I don't need that type of friend! However, I have also realized who my true friends are. And that has meant the world to me. When you're detoxing off ODing and your friend says sweetly, "I love you'" it gives you the strength to keep going.
(It seems I end up here in the Fall. I think its the light changing, but nobody believes me. Hopefully, I can stay out of the hospital this year in September/October/November.)
And yet it was more than this: I thought angels were giving me messages but I also thought aliens had abducted my friend, K, and had taken over his mind and body. I thought, therefore, that he was an alien. I thought I could fly. Every time I saw the doctor in charge at the psych. hospital, he'd ask if I could fly, and I'd reluctantly say yes and then no and then yes again.
Reading this post doesn't given you a good idea. You have to go back and read how disjointed the originals are. The lights outside that I describe, too, called to me, shining brightly in the rain. That was the day I went to the psych. hospital last October. I recall wanting to feel the hard metal of the cars making contact with me and then breaking my bones. The light poles stationary, taking the force of my body and the warped metal of the car at the same time, as we tried to take up the same area of space. It was a cold, slow dance, I envisioned, with the wipers tocking back and forth in the rain. I wanted the heightened sensations. I needed every nuance: each step I took, the feeling of the cold metals, becoming one with it all- the heightened mania that NEEDED the desperation of it all, yet the floating detachment of each footstep.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Whirling Wipers
Walking through the fog I breathe in its viscosity. The cars drive one way- a wiper swipes- then the other whooshing by. They don't exist. I can walk between the most and air as it overburdens my lungs, thick. The air blows around my ankles and is soothing.
Whirling through the cars like the fog. Like the ghost that I am. I don't exist. Time changes. Every bit of what I am and was and could be are now one. I take another step. One. Two. The lights change. The fog lays low, cuddling around the hard bright surfaces of metal. I step again. Red.... Green. Step. Whoosh! Honk! I am free! Time and I are one. I step again.... Breathe in that thick air. Stop.
Since I've started DBT, I've felt better. I can side-step the downward spiral that so often cascaded me into depression. I might have a negative thought, but I will redirect it, saying to myself, "That can wait," or, "That isn't as bad as you think." I can accept things for what they are and then move forward. It feels good!
I do think back on my posts here when I was manic. I like them because they are so descriptive of my in-the-moment feelings.
There is a commercial on tv lately for a brain disorder called PBA: Pseudobulbar Affect. The commercial very specifically points out that the sufferers burst out in laughter or crying for no "real" reason, yet it is "NOT a psychological condition", but a brain disorder! I always want to jump through the screen and yell that psychological disorders ARE your brain! Bipolar is NOT just someone wanting to feeling manic, or WANTING to feel depressed. Its not a personality disorder. Its as if this PBA were "real" and bipolar is just a personality flaw! The truth is that both are just as much disorders of the brain that are very truly physical in nature, and based in the brain where the emotional centers sit. I have less control sometimes of my brain when I'm having a bipolar episode of mania that some people with PBA do when they begin to having a laughing episode. It starts and I am taken down that path, no matter if I can see it or not. So those of us with bipolar may have more in common with PBA than we think. Although we may not have had a stroke which started this, there is faulty wiring that we cannot control our emotions and thoughts.
