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9/11 and other random thoughts


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I’ve been obsessed with the news because of the date. I couldn’t sleep the night of 9/11. I haven’t been able to for 4 years now on that date. I stay up all night until the wee hours of the morning awaiting another devastating tragedy. As if the terrorists would have the ability to pull off another 9/11 on 9/11. However, my heart beats quickly, my pulse rises and my fear is only exacerbated by the heightened news coverage and reflection.

 

In addition to this phenonomen, I have been experiencing unexplainable happiness at the same time. I first went through a plummeting depression last week until the weekend when I got an opportunity to sort through my feelings verbally with my SO. Once the conversation started, it was as if all my concerns and flirtations with separation with my SO began disappearing as soon as words began to be spoken.

 

It’s funny how verbal communication transcends so much internal chaos. It is also scary to me – am I just allowing myself to be fooled by words? Are my internal instincts the ones I should follow, regardless of any verbal communication I might have? Do I construct and construe the words to fit my solution even though they really do not? Do I make the words into beautiful flowers instead of ragging weeds? I could wrap my mind around this conundrum for centuries if I allowed myself to. However, I will buy into the delusion that this is not a delusion and that I am not deluding myself.

 

On the other side of my depression, as alluded to aforehand, I have been experiencing gratitude of colossal proportion in regards to my family. I have felt so close to my family, so connected. I am bursting with love and gratitude. I am Bi-Polar. I am not taking my meds. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be sick anymore. I want to be normal. I feel better not taking them. I fear this is a fallacy (not taking them and feeling better) and I try to remember the dark days of just two years ago. The suicide attempt. I also remember the inexplicable feelings of torment, torture, confusion, grief, delirium, hallucinations, distorted perception, absolute panic of just one year ago. I never want to feel that way again, but I am so tired of feeling depressed. Anyway, I feel the torment, torture, confusion, grief, delirium and distorted perception on the meds; I just don’t feel the happiness. I want to feel the happiness I’ve been experiencing off my meds. I feel like I think clearer. I feel clearer.

 

My imagination is sparked. Ideas are flowing so incredibly fast out of me that I can hardly keep up. In a clinician’s view, this may be interrupted as mania. I agree with the theory that mentally ill people see things that others don’t. We feel things others don’t. Thus, the interpretation that we are different, wrong, ill, sick, needing help and recovery may be an erroneous assumption. Maybe we are normal and you guys are sick.

 

I have been feeling numb about my body until late last week. For about a month, I felt what I call “normal” about my weight. I felt like I wasn’t super skinny, or fat by any means. I was comfortable in my own skin. It was very scary for me. I just don’t feel that way. I feel fat most of the time. Last year I came to a point where I knew I was too big (size 5/6, 7/8) but just accepted it (for the most part). Then I went through my weight loss with the drug use and simmered in the glory of my bones. I was obsessed with my thinness. I praised, glorified and worshiped my lack of fat hanging off my body. (size ¾, nicely)

 

Gradually, I gained the weight back (size 5/6, 7/8), I was devastated. I considered getting on a cocaine diet. I lost the weight using a low carb diet. I gained some back. I didn’t care. I felt numb and scared that I felt numb. I couldn’t tell where my body was. I can’t explain this exactly in words but I’ll try. I couldn’t feel myself. I couldn’t tell where, or if, my fat was. I couldn’t convince myself that I was “overweight”. I was scared because I knew I wasn’t “skinny” either.

 

All that changed however and now I’m back to being fat. Fat. Fat. Fat. Porky me. Moo. Moo. Big Fat Moo Cow. Fat rolls over my waist line. My profile is that of a pregnant woman. My face is fat. My chins roll off me like a mud slide. My indentations in my butt and the back of my thighs look like somebody hit me with a bag of quarters. My clothes don’t fit. I can’t stop eating. I want to starve for just a bit to lose this mass of extra, useless flesh. I can’t. I’m weak. I have no will power. I’m a pig. I hate being fat. I hate being lazy. I hate eating.

 

Ideas have been pouring out of me though. So many that I can’t do anything about any of them. The painful truth is that even if only one idea seeped out, I wouldn’t do anything about it anyway. So frustrating to have so many good inventions and business ideas and not have the ability to implement any of them. Maybe I have the ability, if I applied myself, but I don’t apply myself.

 

Anyway, this is my recap of where I’ve been. Also, I want to make note that Dr. B. (My Psychiatrist) refused my Lamictal due to not seeing the therapist. What the **** does a therapist have to do with chemically changing my brain? I have told her over the last three visits that I’m not doing very well. That I don’t think the meds are working all the way. That I’m depressed and am having feelings that are out of whack and out of control. She says “You can probably work through a lot of that with your therapist”. “I don’t think that is a med related issue.” **** you. **** you. **** you. I know me. I know the meds aren’t sufficient. I know a change needs to be made. Therapy won’t help jack ****. Robin’s a * anyway and we never get anything really accomplished. I tell her how I feel, I cry a bit, she says blah, blah, blah and I leave. Another fantastic session. **** therapy.

 

So, was this random or what?

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Wow. Looks like you have a lot of things going through your mind. I can't say as I totally disagree with your doctor. the reason being that, while you may be diagnosed as bi-polar, there are issues outside of that diagnosis that the doctor may be feeling won't be addressed by the medication. Medication gives people an opportunity to address the issues that are exacerbating the need for the medication in the first place. the best way to work to not need medication is to work with therapy and psychiatry in conjunction.

 

You may not nee dthe therapist nearly as long as the psychiatrist. but, working together, they can often come up with a treatment that will, at once allow you to deal with any hidden issues, *and* set up an appropriate medication plan to support it.

 

I can only suggest that you either listen to your doctor and get a therapist to at least take a look at whether they can offer assistance (maybe your doc can refer you to one) or find a psychiatrist that *also* offers therapy... something pretty hard to find now adays.

 

As far as your feleings... they are your feelings. There is no way to know if they are banormal or not... because they are normal for you. The trick is not to feel differently so much as evaluate whether your reactions to your feelings are appropriate. That's what a therapist does. Help you determine whether your emotions are being channeled correctly and effectively dealt with.

 

It's nice that you have an SO that is supportive of you. That's always a good thing

 

When you are manic, sometimes it's very difficult to realize you are manic and having an outside observer helps a lot.

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