At Psych ER

The social worker seems to be fighting me a little bit. He's not sure if he wants to admit me or not. He's really up in the air now. Going to talk to the dr who is then going to come talk to me. He was doing the "its up to you whether or not you need admitted" thing to which I said, "my pdoc said that was the next choice" to which he said "You only gave the meds a day's chance!" to which I said, "yeah but I can't stand this." and round and round we went. He says I'd miss my pdoc appointment if I were in the hospital- irony. I don't really WANT to go to the hospital, and so he asks me what do I want out of this visit! Oh geeze. Anyway, he went to talk to the psychiatrist here, so we'll see. I seem to be the only one here so that's good. At least we're getting out of here quickly.

So the drs talked to me and they want to admit me. Citing that they don't think I can keep myself safe for sure. Three to seven days. Not sure if they have a spot here at this hospital or not. We'll see.

I've been waiting hours. They keep interviewing me to see if I'm really sick enough to stay. Its like interviewing for a job. They even had someone talk to me about finances so I said, "just make sure they'll pay before you admit me!" So they're back to pushing buttons around to see what happens. Keep having to retell them if I could be safe or not at home. I think they want me to say "yes! No problem! I'll go home now!" rather than, "My psychiatrist wanted me to go inpatient yesterday". Its now 10:30 p.m.

I'm starting to get grumpy. Must be because I'm tired. They asked me about last time I was inpatient. They seemed to think that I tried to jump off a bridge! How does wanting to climb off a balcony translate to that I don't know, but eh, same effect I guess. Whatever happens tonight, its going to be a late night. I should've brought my night time meds. They keep asking of there is something that set this off on Friday and I just can't think of anything. The normal things that get to me, sure, but nothing major or out of the ordinary and really nothing big at all. I really think its that my brain has just gone bad. The wiring is messed up. Plain and simple.

Speaking of wiring, at least they have given me my nighttime meds. That's a plus!

More Suicidal Thoughts

I'm sitting at a coffee shop with a friend. I guess I was triggered earlier today about a financial matter. Not good. Now I see myself going down the rabbit hole again. Oh all those Skittles. All those tasty Skittles! Now my thoughts are not anxious as much as they are just negative and ... and... I think I have messed up my life. There is nowhere to hide. There are creatures of human form after me. Worse than zombies. They are all after me. They have, in fact, all gotten me while at the same time they are still chasing. Both at the same time. All the time. And down the rabbit hole I go. These two guys behind me won't shut up. They are loud. I can't even crawl under this table to get away. Only the rabbit hole for me. Where it calls to me. Quietly. And it may turn to screaming. Screaming in the distance. Yes. Indefinite running in the cold. Run... no sleep. No warmth. Where are the voices? The soothing voices? Come back to me... Come calling, calling to me! And yet, these voices behind me need to SHUT UP! Melting into the floor. Goodbye. Not here. O death rock me asleep.

New Dose of Zyprexa & Anxiety Lowered

My new nighttime double dose of Zyprexa seems to have calmed this awful anxious feeling. Tomorrow morning, I'm to take one more pill as was added recently, too. I hope it continues to work. I don't want to keep having to up the dose or to go to the hospital again. We shall see. For now, the thoughts have gone.

Home Now

I am home now. Not from the hospital, that is. Just being out. The thoughts are still there. Now I'm just thinking about benedryl instead of scripts. I'm watching "All Creatures..." In my pajamas. So what do I do? Sit on my bed like its a raft over icey water? Call ER? They'll just have me come in.

Saw Psychiatrist today- wanted to put me in hospital

Saw my psychiatrist today. We talked about the past few weeks and especially few days. She seemed concerned. She upped by Zyprexa by half again what it was, saying it should've worked by upping it by one pill as we did last week and weird that it hasn't helped, and told me to have a friend hold all my meds for a week until I see her again. Its either that or inpatient. So my friend now has all my meds. I get to keep my pill box of my daily meds. Ugh. I really hate this. I want to cry. She said she doesn't think I'm depressed, however. I am at a restaurant with the friend who is taking the meds to his house. He's buying me lunch. Music is playing. Iced tea. Pdoc is pregnant, too, and somehow though I am suicidal I miss having life in me like that. How did I get here? I'm supposed to email pdoc to say my friend has the pills. Oh how I still wish I had them. I could still buy some. I miss the wind. I want to sleep outside in the cold naked against nothing but that cold, bitter wind, until I am one with pain. What is this and how did I get here? I am reminded of the following poem by Anne Boleyn:

O Death! rocke me asleep;

Bringe me to quiet reste;

let pass my weary, guiltles ghost

out of my carefull brest.

Toll on, the passinge-bell;

ring out my dolefull knell;

let thy sounde my death tell.

Death dothe drawe ny;

there is no remedie.

My paynes, who can expres?

Alas! they are so stronge

my dolor will not suffer strength

my lyfe for to prolonge.

Toll on, the passinge-bell;

ring out my dolefull knell;

let thy sounde my death tell.

for I must dye;

there is no remedie.

Alone, in prison stronge,

I wayte my destenye.

Wo worth this cruel hap, that I

should taste this miserie!

Toll on, the passinge-bell;

ring out my dolefull knell;

let thy sounde my death tell.

Death dothe drawe ny;

there is no remedie.

Farewell! my pleasures past;

welcum! my present payne.

I fele my tormentes so increse

that lyfe cannot remayne.

Toll on, the passinge-bell;

rong is my dolefull knell;

for the sound my dethe doth tell.

Death dothe drawe ny;

there is no remedie.

Sound my end dolefully

for now I dye.

Anxiety (& Depression?)

I have had anxiety for weeks. I can't shake it. It's eating away. I snap at people. I scream. I can't seem to cry. I am nervous. And now finally I am having fantasies of drinking a ton and then of taking my entire bottle of anti-anxiety pills- many more than one month's worth. I can't explain it. I wish this feeling would go away. My medications have been taken. I want to beat people up. Outwardly, I seem ok unless I lose patience and then I snap. My therapist yesterday said I was anxious not depressed. She suggested soothing actives. Trust me I'm trying to do fun things! I need to escape this feeling. And it's Friday night. Not a good night to go to ER. I feel alienated that nobody can understand. Why did my therapist only say that? I am supposed to call if I'm worse. Can I make it through the weekend? Are my meds working? Lithium blood level was fine last time a few weeks back. I feel almost mean with lack of patience. Time is endless with this terrible feeling. Ill end up taking Ativan again most likely. I don't want to die. I just want to drink a bottle of whiskey and 50 Ativan and stay there.

Jury Duty - Kicked Out for Bipolar

In December, I got a summons for Jury Duty. I'll admit, I was not thrilled. Then this past Thursday or so, I suddenly had a thought to check the paper about it: its MONDAY! ACK!

Also scheduled for Sunday night is a sleep study for my eldest, 15, at the hospital. I'm worried about going from one to the other, getting there on time, and finding my way to and from both places, not to mention remembering where I parked! The study didn't go as well as it could: he didn't sleep much and neither did I. He has to repeat it. I'm running further behind than I'd hoped, but we make it out of the hospital and I'm on my way to find the courthouse. By the time I've parked in the nearby lot, I'm not only upset and shaking, but I've gone down the wrong way on a one-way street! (Cars were honking at me and all! Thank god no police were around!) I put to memory the second place that I've parked for the day and set off to find a small breakfast place. I only have time for coffee. They begrudgingly take my credit card for the $2 charge. I leave to find the courthouse again.

Inside, there is a metal detector and scanner similar to at the airport. I have my cellphone with me which, since it has a camera, is against the rules. I put it inside a small locker with the quarters I've brought just in case. I march upstairs with other prospective jurors toward our holding cell. We check in. We sit. We get fed danishes in plastic bags and bad coffee. We get the lo-down on how it might happen in the court room. We are taken to the court room.

Once in the court room itself, the judge, three lawyers, defendant and secretary and a few others are seated. Twelve names are called at random to sit in the jury seats. The rest of us sit in the back and watch and wait. From then on, its a matter of asking each in the box a series of questions. If you'd rather not have everyone hear your answer, you can go up to the judge and answer in private. Several times, this happens, and the juror is dismissed of his duties and may go home. They are asked if they have any reason they think they should go home, and some give reasons like they have to work, or they are going on vacation. Some of the reasons are denied. This process continues over and over and over. Lots of times, the attorneys ask the prospective jurors questions about their specific statements and situations. Its as if they are being examined in a trial! So I'm watching, glad I hadn't had much coffee this morning, sitting on that hard bench indefinitely, when my name is called! I walk up to the jury box of red seats and sit down. I start shaking like a leaf. His Honor asks me if I know anyone named in the list of names read previously. I answered that yes, I did, and that that person was an attorney on the case where my great-grandmother was murdered. A lawyer asks me to elaborate on the case surrounding my great-grandmother's murder. I'm still shaking. So I say that she was raped and murdered by a serial rapist and the case was brought back out due to DNA evidence. The judge then asks if I could be impartial if this lawyer were to be involved in our case and I said no, I could not, honestly. He then asks if I have any medical conditions and if I'm on medications for them. "Yes, I'm bipolar," I answer. "Did you take your medication today?" he inquires. "Yes," I reply. The lawyers and the judge have one of their little meetings for a minute or two and then tell me that my duty is over and I may leave.

I went back down the hall to the juror room, get my pay card for $17 and left. I found my car okay and went out to eat for about as much money. Now I'm back home in my pajamas. Its been snowing all day and its just feels good to be home and comfortable! I don't know what the reason is for not wanting me- if its the brain meds, or if its just mental illness in general, but whatever it is, it works for me. I didn't want to go there every day, park, and most of all try to remember all the details of the case. That *is* something that my brain drugs do- make it difficult to remember things sometimes! Especially Topomax.

So there it is. I got kicked out for one or two reasons and it was all well that ended well.