Bitching & whining about an illness

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

Know what? I’m exhausted. This freaking bipolar brain thing and the relationships it destroys or keeps me from nurturing, the sheer isolation and soul-deep loneliness. Sometimes I just can’t stand it. I can’t stand the all-inclusive disconnection overshadowing everything and blocking any joy I should feel for even the simplest things. I love my kids as much as I love anything, And feel absolutely no joy in them. Because I don’t believe in unconditional love and feel it’s foolish to expect it of them. Because I’m not lovable. Because I’m distant. Because I know that I can identify those parts of me that are broken, and I know that there’s no way of fixing them. And my choices? I can live untreated and continue to wreck the lives of anyone I touch, or I can treat and view everyday the irreparable damage that I’ve already done and know that I can never make any of it right.

And the worst part? I’m not crazy enough to not care.

Gah… So, how was your weekend?

2

Fine, be crabby. But we still love ya.

3

Hang in here! Remember, you have to find the six-fingered man!!

(I have been treated for OCD for many years. Medication is a double edged sword: It can make you feel and act better, but all the pills in the world can’t fix some things. My heart goes out to you.)

4

Isn’t preventing future damage worth being aware of past damage? It’s true that you can’t ever make it right, but taking steps to make it end can sometimes be just as good.

5

I saw a documentary Saturday morning about these bracelets they’d discovered that have psycho-magnetic properties that can de-polarize your ions. Or re-ionize your alkaloids. Or something like that… Anyways, Maybe one of those would help. I think they were less than $200.

I’ve also been reading up on this (more or less) cutting-edge medical procedure in which pressure on the brain is alleviated and the humours are encouraged into equilibrium. Anyways, I’ve been “practicing” the procedure (on coconuts) but I’m confident I could, um, help. I think. If you’re interested, my email is in my profile. Or you could try those quacks with their high-falutin’ “pharmaseuticals”. Snort.

Good luck, and feel better. /w

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Medication may stablize you, but it can’t make up for what ain’t there. Go out and do something new, socialize, and fill up on something healthy for you mentaly. Go to places that are conducive to a good mental health, and stay away from those that are detrimental, or just benign. Do something that you will feel good about, such as wrapping presents for a toy drive, or other holiday activities. Just do something for yourself, because that’s who you need to take care of. You can’t fix other peoples lives, ultimitly they have to do it themselves.

7

By the way I’m not going to feed your depression, get off your duff and do something to involve yourself with positive life experiences. Do it now so it gets done, and do not procrastinate.

8

I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad right now. You’re depressed, and not seeing things with clarity. What meds are you taking, if any?

You may not believe in unconditional love, but there is still love. It’s all around you. Life is not black or white, the way you are seeing things now.

Ihope things look up for you soon.

9

Love isn’t earned.

Which is a good thing, because if it was there wouldn’t be a lot of it going around :stuck_out_tongue:

10

As unloveable as you feel you are, your kids don’t see that first of all. Secondly, as others have said, though you can’t ever wipe it away, you can take steps not to repeat past mistakes, so you don’t add to the pile. Thirdly, you are worth loving unconditionally, and that is a demon you need to defeat. You are worth just as much as anybody else, bipolar brain or not. Since they are worth unconditional love, it follows that you are also worth loving, just for yourself, for who you are inside, warts and all. I hope you get better soon.

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There is no human being that is not worthy of being loved;we are(in my belief) all connected. We are not what others may think of us,If they think we are terrible it doesn’t make us so,If they think we are wonderful it doesn’t make us so;we are what we are. Do not let others define you,if you do not like what you are seeing about your self now, it is up to you to change.If you need medication to help you because of a Chemical inbalance the medicines should help clear your mind so you can see the good in your self.

If someone doesn’t like you it doesn’t mean you are bad or unworthy of love,and respect. Some people just have different tastes,neither they or you are bad.
Be the person you would like, others opinins will not matter.
Monavis

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Y’all are very sweet. And your posts illustrate perfectly the detachment I’m talking about. Because you see, when so much of anything you’ve ever tried to do with relationships inevitably bursts into flames, you begin to recognize a common theme: people move away from you emotionally and often physically as well. This recognition becomes an expectation, which is itself self-perpetuating because it is an effective repellant. People tend to have an aversion to hanging out with someone with an Eeyore complex: “You’ll just leave when you’ve gotten what you want from me.” Over time, that expectation of abandonment becomes rationalized as a profound belief in self-inadequacy. After all, nobody abandons a worthwhile human being, therefore…

And before you write the above off as simple “whining” consider also that I am able to recognize an element of untruth in it all. I’m a great guy in real life. Reasonably interesting to chat with, conversant in a multitude of topics, competent at a wide range of activities. Not just a blob. Really. And yet, part of being human is being able to integrate known truths with perception and mood. And I don’t do that. I can’t do that. Because I know only extreme emotion. Rage, euphoria, indigo depression…or none at all, like right now because I’m hobbling along on a pharmaceutical cruch to give myself (and those around me) a break. Where I’m at right now is what I’d call “rational despair.” It’s where you are when, well, like when you’ve destabilized a country and hurled it into an unbridled civil war and it’s your job to fix it. Where do repairs start? When you know you can’t have meaningful relationships with other people, why do you start? What’s the point? My choices are to either suck people into the storm that I normally live in, or to mingle amongst the peoples with no love (or rage) in my heart.

Just feeling empty is all. And it’s tiring. Perhaps my humours do need a little adjustment.

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I suggest a tea made from the tears of an orphan, cock’s comb, and 4/5 vermuth.

14

Jeez, Inigo. I hope you are getting the help you need. For what it’s worth, you may just need to find a pharmceutical combination that suits your chemistry. You know, while the typical drive-thru approach to prescribing medication works for some, it’s not effective for everyone, and sometimes it’s a trial-and-error thing. A little sunshine and exercise never hurts, either.

And (of course) the offer to drill a hole in your skull stands.

Again, good luck, and I really hope you are feeling better soon.

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After drilling the hole, I suggest stuffing sunshine into the cavity. That’ll fix what ails ya, for sure.

16

Pst, Iñigo, there you’re wrong.

Just last sunday I had a terrible scare. I took part of my luggage down to my car, then went up to the room intending to visit mr Water (who lives in a closet) and wash my hands, then have breakfast, pick The Luggage that was left in the room, and leave.

Instead, I grabbed my heart hastily from where it had jumped up to the ceiling, grabbed The Two Laptops (one personal, one work) that, being the absolutely most valuable things I had I’d left in the room until the last minute, paid and left.

I didn’t speak with the cleaning lady… but her interaction leaving my room wide open with the laptops inside, in their cases on top of the freaking bed, caused me to lose my appetite, get the shakes on my left thigh and several minutes of vertigo. I had to stop the car at the side of the road for a few minutes, waiting for the episode to pass.

If my car had burst into flame while I was going up to my room, it would have been a bitch, but I wouldn’t have lost anything I couldn’t replace. If those two bags had been stolen, I would have been up shit creek with no cash, no credit cards, no ID. At current car-value rates, those computers are worth more than the car (let us not mention the confidential data in one of them, shall we? And at least I don’t have anything business-critical… yet!)

Even something as dumb as opening a door that shouldn’t be opened yet can make a big impact - and you think that being there when your kid needs a hug won’t? Or, conversely, not being there? You can kid yourself but don’t try to kid me, Mr Montoya!

I know it’s the bad chemistry talking, but no, there ain’t no such thing as a meaningless relationship. Or are you going to tell me that you can’t remember a situation where someone did something that to them was meaningless but which hit you real hard, for good or bad? With your personality and medical problems, if you say you don’t I’ll know you’re lying.

17

I completely understand what you’re describing there Inigo. I too spend my life either flipping between extreme ups and downs or sitting in a bland unemotional place. Actually, unemotional isn’t even the right word…its more of a gray dullness that settles in. I realized a while back that ‘happy’ doesn’t really exist for me, about the most I hope for in life is to be content. Controlling those extremes and going through the motions of a ‘normal’ life is exhausting, especially when almost nothing seems to bring any happiness or relief.

I just reread that paragraph and realize it probably doesn’t help much, but I can certainly extend some empathy.

18

My mother was an unmedicated bipolar who at times made my life absolute hell with suicide threats/attempts, violent rages, irrational assumptions and the fact that I was never able to address my own depression (I’m bipolar myself but not as severely) because Mama’s mood had to come first. I devoted much of a lifetime to making sure she was as happy as could be expected, to making her laugh and to think she was a bit wiser and a bit funnier than perhaps she was, and I came to resent heavily the time that it took away from my own needs and goals. There were times I can honestly say I hated her and times when I honestly thought my life would be better if she were dead.

Why do I mention this?

Because as the son of a very VERY difficult and at times even destructive and out-of-control bipolar I can tell you that one thing I never had any lack of was real and true and deep love for my mother. I understood that she had an illness (well, eventually- in the 1970s/early 1980s nobody in my circle knew what bipolar illness was, though certainly everybody knew a bipolar), and I also knew that the manic and depressive phases that so cast shadows on my life accounted for a small minority of the time I was with her. I came to understand and realize that it was who she was the majority of the time, the caring and intelligent and funny and loving and hardworking old warhorse survivor and hellion, was who she really was, and the rest was the illness. She’s dead now and I can absolutely assure you not a day or an hour goes by that I don’t miss the hell out of her and wish she was here, because it’s not the late night gun wielding suicide attempts or drunken revelations I’d rather not have heard that ultimately defined her but the good stuff I mentioned. No matter how ill you are, you can still earn the love of your children and they will understand in time what you are fighting against.

That said, your illness (like mine) may sometimes prove an annoying and infuriating hurdle to happiness but it is not a barrier. Keep trying, find a medication that works for you (it sometimes takes a while- I was on one that worked fine for seven years then stopped overnight, a few months later I’m back on track after some adjustments- see a reputable psychiatrist for medicinal advice). Make sure there aren’t other factors at play as well (for me it was diabetes that in part short circuited my medication), get physically active (I curse my trainer a blue streak three times a week but you wouldn’t believe how much of a difference it makes in your mood and general well-being), don’t give up on life AND FOR GOD’S SAKE DON’T STOP TAKING YOUR MEDICINE FOR THAT IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST THING YOU CAN DO! However much you think you may have fucked up your life or the lives of the ones you love you’ll think it exponentially more if you’re depressed and unmedicated. (The main thing I continue to resent about my mother isn’t her illness but her refusal to treat it.)

Also remember that the reasons humans are found in the grasslands of Africa, the deserts of Arabia, the Arctic Circle, South American rain forests, skyscrapers and caves is because we’re pretty fucking amazing in our resilience. I guarantee that you haven’t fucked up other people’s lives as bad as you think you have and in the unlikely event that you have, well, people recover. It’s only going to make it worse if you get worse, so don’t.

Apologies for anything Pollyanna-ish or psychobabbling, but at least I didn’t recommend a CHICKEN’S SOUP book or butterflies or anything. But hang in there and know that you can only change the future, but that can be enough. (Oh God, get me out of here before I start singing Tomorrow… but I am serious.)

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BTW, for a non-hugs-and-lollipops version of a response, there’s a discussion going on in the Pit.

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:smack:

Or, for the full thread, click here.