Tag Archives: taking care of myself

Six Steps to Take Back Our Control: Part Two of Three

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Good morning. 🙂 If you are just tuning in, you can find steps one and two written in the previous blog post.

3. Politely listen but don’t necessarily follow well-meaning advice from family and friends. It’s human nature to want to tell someone or share with that person our ideas about what we think should be done in certain situations. In some cases, this helpful advice comes from family members who have heard us sound entirely different than usual. In my case, it was other siblings who heard me on the phone coming off slurred, drugged, or very sleepy. That’s alarming. I agree. It was disturbing to me as well, even as it happened. Others, including friends who are still on medication and doctors who don’t believe it can be done in your case, offer entirely different words of advice.

4. Visualize all possible outcomes of your choices. I did not do this before I chose to wean myself off my psych meds, but I wish someone had suggested it. I like to play the “What if” game in my head these days. It helps me with most situations. If I’d played this game before I weaned off my psych meds, it might look like this:

  • What if I get anxious? Coming off bipolar and meds for anxiety (specifically Ativan 2mg tablets 3x daily), this is a pretty likely event and concern. So, if I get anxious, I’ll have to cope.
  • What if I can’t cope? What if I *can’t* cope? What do I mean here with this fear? What if I don’t have the *ability* to cope, or I do have the ability, but I’m afraid I won’t want to deal? Suss out those meanings for yourself. I might have to ask for help.
  • What if I ask for help and I’m turned away, or the person I call isn’t home? Then I keep asking. If I have to call the suicide hotline for help, I’ll do that.
  • What if whoever I ask for help that person tells me I need to be admitted to a psych ward? So, is this a terrible thing? It’s *incredibly* difficult to wean off meds by oneself. I’m sure I did it more quickly than I should’ve.

Anyway, you get the idea. Play devil’s advocate on this step.

Peace. xoxo

Chrissy

Are You a Mono- or Multitasker?

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courtesy of Cathy Thorne Everyday Comics

I have a confession to make. I’ve never been a good multitasker. I envied my friends who could, especially if they had kids or other distractions. I mean, I even have trouble listening to the radio and driving at once. Usually, I drive in complete silence, at least within my control. Rain lends itself to the patter on the window, the wipers going back and forth, not to mention thunder. I love a good storm, but only from the inside looking out. The only inside sound I will (need to) put up with for a while is Stella, my VZ Navigator. After getting lost going to familiar places, she became my new best friend.

If I do get distracted from the moment, it’s usually my ADD or OCD kicking in. When I’m reading, my absolute favorite activity, I do get distracted because I have this obsession with not stopping until I was at a page which had a period, or, better yet, a complete end to the chapter. I have suspicions about ending or beginning a chapter on 50, 100, 150, you the idea. Nothing bad would happen if I didn’t, except I would get so annoyed. If I did happen to land on those “lucky” pages, I looked for something good to happen to people I care about, or even myself. My ADD will cause me to want to look through FB, then – oh – I wanted to look up this thing before I for… – what was I just thinking? 🙂

I’m not perfect at it, for certain, but I try to monotask as much as I can. When I’m writing, even though I hate it, I will do it offline, or set a distraction-free mode on my writing software. Or, when I really want to be mindful, I’ll handwrite on a notebook and type the words in later.

We live in a world that has evolved at an alarming rate in technology. I keep waiting for hovercars to come on the horizon. But how many people do you notice answering texts even in the company of others? Rude. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love some tech things, like the new Spire. It’s just a little thing, I can clip it to the pocket of the jeans I’m wearing, or clip it to my bra say if I were wearing a dress. It recognizes the stress in my body and helps me with your breathing until I’m a bit more settled. Then, I can take note of the times my heart rate increases or my breath is unsteady and make a plan to cope ahead for those occasions.

So, yeah. I’m mostly immersed in one activity at a time. If I’m writing, I’m writing, which is why I probably get so irritable when interrupted. If I’m watching a movie, I easily lose the plot if I’m not focused. When I walk, I notice things around me, marveling at how beautiful it all is, but mostly stay focused on my steps to keep going, like a drill sergeant – “left, left, left, right, left.” 😀

What about you? Do you need to focus on one thing? How does that make you feel? Or, can you multi-task, and again – how does it make you feel? For both mono- and multitaskers, do you feel calm or frenzied much of the time?

Peace

Chris xo

 

 

Anticipation…..it’s making me wait!

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dr. walkerIt was hard to wait all morning to meet my new therapist, Dr. Walker. Anticipation and expectation had my mind going in all sorts of directions. “Will he want me as a client? Will he decide I’m just too much to deal with? What if he gets sick of me?….What if..he can’t fix me?”

Then I got lost. There are only two things that can terrify me more than anything. Getting lost and not finding my way or, worse than that, when a spider drops off the ceiling without my knowledge and lands on my person. I think the spider is scarier. ‘Cause I found my way to Dr. Walker.

What do I like best about him? He’s funny and has a great laugh. I told him how my irritability from the mania has spread to strangers. You know how people will sometimes pull right up to the gas station door if they just have to run in to buy cigs or a Pepsi or something? Even though there are perfectly good parking spots for just such a reason, including handicapped spots? Now, I know it’s really cold out, true. But I park in the spots and, by extension, so should every other person on God’s green earth.

Yesterday, two people were pulled up in front of the gas station when I parked and went in. As each of them came out of the door, I said (I still can’t believe this), “Is it that cold out? You see there are parking spots to park. In fact, I’m in such a spot.”

And you know how Dr. Walker reacted? He laughed. I LOVE that. Because by the time I was done telling the story I was laughing too. I normally would shrug off people who park there. What’s the big deal? So what? Walk around them. They’re in a hurry; there’s a fire. 😉

The other thing I like is his approach to treatment, although I only remember two things he said, one of which is above. I made a quote meme out of it. The other thing he said at the end was, “I need you to contract not to suicide, because I can’t treat you if you’re dead.” Ha ha ha ha

Peace out. xo

A Rose by Any Other Name

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pink roseI’m so incredibly nervous writing this, and at the same time . . . feels like home. I have been completely overwhelmed by the positive responses to my last blog post. Just–flabbergasted, truly. Those lovely comments came on the heels of a little over seven months of severe depression and severe anxiety, which brings me to why it’s been so long since I’ve posted.

So many times, when one grows up in an alcoholic family, or any sort of dysfunctional family, it becomes all about the alcoholic for so long, or about the person or sickness that draws the most attention from the family–not that they don’t each have difficulties, but the alcoholic or whatever stands out like a fresh pimple. You see? It has been true for me.

It is time now for my recovery to be about me. There is plenty to talk about just in my case, trust me. I have blemishes beyond blemishes. I even am an imperfectly flawed person, which I hope makes sense to some metaphorically-inclined soul out there.

Recently, as recent as last Friday, I was finally dx’d with bipolar depression and told I was in a manic episode (not hypomanic). I had only been sleeping maybe 2 1/2 hours a night, and I was unable to focus on anything; not TV, not reading (I had five books going at once, but had not finished a book through since Doctor Sleep at Christmastime, very frustrating for me, a book lover); extremely irritable; and easily startled awake from a catnap during the day.

My dazzling doctor gave me samples of a new bipolar med which is not supposed to cause weight gain (a big problem–get it? I crack myself up, truly). It’s called Latuda, and since it’s only about six months old, there’s not a chance my insurance would pay for it, and it would cost about a thousand bucks to get filled. Yeah.  *respectful pause for that number to sink in*

I’ve been on it two days, and last night I slept 4 1/2 hours straight through. w00t!

There’s a lot more I have to say, about the last seven months, and a lot I want to say about the mental health care system in the U.S.A. and Michigan in particular, but I’ll stop here. I don’t want to bog you all down too much on my first day back in forever.

My gratitude bucket overflows. Peace out. xoxochange

 

Noticed Something Really Sad About My Readers

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Okay, I admit I’m not the smartest person who ever lived, but I’m not the most stupid either. I know the ways of the world, and I’m kinda hypersensitive.

I’ve been checking my views over the last few days, and you know what’s weird?

They skyrocketed (well, went to 40 views on my busiest day, which for me is a lot) when I talked about my sister’s arrest, and continued to be fairly steady until yesterday.

Yesterday I talked about me again, and good ol’ Al-Anon, and God, and how all that’s helping me. And my views dipped all the way down to eight.

Ouch.

If you want to hear all the sad news about my sister, if you think that’s what this blog is all about, I’m really sorry. This blog is about MY recovery. I like to please just as much still, but I’m trying really hard to heed the words of my sponsor: “You have to take care of yourself first.”

God must be thoroughly upset with me (or want me to write my novel – lol) because it’s pouring rain! If it stops raining enough, I will indeed keep my pinky promise and get those pics of Tweetybird and upload them. Geeze, I don’t even know what to categorize this one. Rant, I guess. 😦

What are you doing today to take care of YOURself? 😉

Peace out.

On the Brighter Side

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On the brighter side

On the bright side

It took me a while to get to the place where I could even write today. I had to remind myself of my main destressor: knitting. After I’d knitted for a a good hour and still felt unequivocal and persistent self-pity, I searched the Kindle for something in my Daily Reads category that might kick me out of this gloom and doom.

While this is not a book review, I do want to note Amy Spencer’s Bright Side Up: 100 Ways to Be Happier Right Now, since I’ll be drawing from that for the rest of this post. When I read the chapter “At least you’re not . . .” that’s when light dawned, and a better, healthier perspective appeared before me.

Last night, I found myself screaming over a passed-out, drunken nephew on my sofa. Not my proudest moment. Also wrenched my back trying to help him “wake up” and get in the car so I could take him home with his mother.

This afternoon, after Aleve, a hot soak in the tub, some time knitting, and a shot in the arm from Amy, I wish there were do-overs. But there aren’t. He’s home now, sober. I’m here, feeling better.

At least I’m not living with zombies, after having been abducted. I heard one was sited in our neighborhood the other night. At least I’m not so poor I can’t even pay attention (sometimes). At least I’m not boring or unlovable. At least I’m not shoveling snow off the driveway. At least I’m not dog-less, without my Lucy.

And, with Amy, I had to recognize how blessed I really am. Sure, I hurt my back. But today, my head doesn’t hurt, my hands and feet are both functioning perfectly fine, my legs get me around without any trouble. And the Aleve really helped.

Maybe there aren’t do-overs in life. But I can always learn from what happens in my life and do better next time. Next time I can stop and take three deep breaths. I can walk away. Pray the Serenity prayer. Count to 100. Smile. It’s hard to scream when you’re smiling. 😉

Oh, life is a good thing. 🙂

Peace out.

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Taking Care of Ourselves

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self care

Who do you think about first thing in the morning or last thing at night before you fall asleep? Who do you feed first in the morning? Remember the airplane instructions about putting the oxygen mask on yourself first before you put it on your child or even the hurt person next to you? There are reasons for those.

When I was a kid coming up in the world, the last thing I thought about was myself. Sure, there were a few times that were carefree, like I remember playing Red light, Green light; Red Rover; Hide-and-Seek; Say-say-oh-playmate; Mother May I; all those games that kids play in their neighborhoods or towns growing up. But underlying it all was that elephant of drunkenness, anger, and violence. Towering over the elephant stood the giraffe of secrecy.

On the outside we had to look the part of perfect normalcy. Very proper, well-cared for, every hair in place, not a bruise showing, no tears no tears, mustn’t let the world think you are anything but absolutely ordinary. No, more than that: extraordinary. After all, my father was an officer of the law. If his children couldn’t be expected to behave in public, whose could? Our outsides, of course, terribly mismatched our insides. We hurt, we ached, we carried bruises (some physical, some emotional) . . . we carried secrets about drunkenness and violence, secrets in the words only our childlike voices could tell.

In Al-Anon and in therapy I’m learning to take care of myself – not better care – but to actually take care of myself for the first time. Dori (my sponsor) helps me to see my limitations and what I can and cannot do, before I actually hit the wall of exhaustion (as I’ve done). There is a whole chapter in the Al-Anon Big Book, How Al-Anon Works: For Families and Friends of Alcoholics called -oddly enough- Taking Care of Ourselves. Hey, is there some plagiarism going on here? How did they know I was going to write this blog?

What’s best about the Al-Anon Big Book, for me, is it’s simple enough that I can understand it when I’m distressed. Because when I’m in a situation and I need it, if the language were too complicated or flowery, I wouldn’t be able to absorb, intelligence not withstanding. Intelligence goes straight out the window when one is panicked and in distress.

There is a strong connection, in many ways, between the techniques taught in the Al-Anon and in the AA Big Book. For instance, I was pleasantly surprised to read under the SETTING PRIORITIES AND LIMITS section of this chapter, the acronym for H.A.L.T., which is usually often discussed in the AA Big Book.

This reminds me of my doctor’s appt yesterday for a re-evaluation of my chronic fatigue syndrome. I’ve been feeling much worse, dragging all the time, and lots of “brain fog”, which is upsetting. Well, the nurse took at least 20 vials of blood and I have to go back in a week to get more blood for a cortisol draw, since that needs to be done in the morning, and to go over the results of the lab tests thus far.

Here’s hoping they’ll have some answers for me. Even the slightest hormone mishap can cause a lot of fatigue, and if that can be corrected, I’m all over it. Taking care of myself is one of my number one priorities right now! 😉

How about you? Are you taking care of yourself?