Hospital stay

Well I'm back home. (Not that any of you knew I was in the hospital.) This time I stayed 11 days to make certain that my medications were working together. You know you've been inpatient too many times when the psych ward begins to feel like a second home.

Everyone in the psych ward is different - age, race, religion - yet we are all dealing with a mental illness. It is such a blessing to be around others who are facing the same challenges. During this stay I would often observe the way that being together gave us strength. A 65 year old granny chatting with a 19 year old skater. A 40 year old Muslim talking about God with a 31 year old Christian. We are all equal, we all need help. I wish the rest of the world could have this experience. (But who's going to admit to having a mental illness?)

I've got a schedule, and it includes staying awake all day long. I'm going to the gym every weekday. I do chores and make meals. I'm functioning again. I'm doing my part to control this disease, and the medicine does the rest. For now, the new medication is working with me - let's hope it lasts for a long while.

Ode to a Disease

Bipolar, you have given me such great pains.

Scares and stresses, moods and messes.

You have left me for dead with only my breath to save my body.

You will me to fight with the public, when I don't want to fight with anyone.

Your desire would be that I hide away, shelter and shudder.

Bipolar disease you are a disease which pleases to make my mind like a sieve - in with the new thoughts, keeping the horrendous thoughts to swirl around, and letting the good thoughts pass through, never touching ground. Oh, disease, you freeze me when I want to decide, you place a space between those I want to touch, you erase feelings of joy, love and devotion. You eat my soul, piece by piece. And I am sweet, so you enjoy me.

Work Out II

I had a great workout today. The it's been an hour since we left the gym, and I'm still feeling the high. But more than the rush of adrenaline, I have a very clear head. I haven't had this in a long time, and I know I'll be back at the gym tomorrow.

Work Out

It's so easy to slip out of the gym habit. But I'm going back tomorrow. And even though I don't like it, I'm going to get on those machines and work. I'm doing this for my freaking health.

crying spell

I had a moment in front of my kids this morning that was really sad. I'm having to take my baby's crib apart (she's almost 3) because we bought her a big girl bed, and I'm in the garage looking for the crib box. well I also had pandora playing throughout the house, right? so I'm digging through stuff, and I'm coming across all this stuff that to me all of the sudden seems like failures: ping pong table that we never play, antique table that we never use, etc. and this sad Norah Jones song comes on and I lose it. so here I am bawling, and i found the crib box and I realize that my baby isn't a baby anymore. more tears, more bawling. my kids are all standing at the garage door asking me if I'm ok, and why I'm crying. I just told them I'm having lots of emotions, and that I'll be ok. I could have sat there for hours, but I pulled myself together and got the box ready. It felt good to get a cry out. also, does anyone need a used crib?

Waking Up

As someone under depression, I sleep a lot. I go to bed early, I wake up late, I take little naps, cat naps, long naps. You name it, anything I can grab, I take. And I HATE being woken up. I don't know what it is, but it's like whatever wakes me up is my enemy. Sometimes its my phone alarm, which isn't so bad because its inanimate. But usually it's Gaby or one of the kids, sent in to wake the sleeping beauty. I feel like the wicked witch inside. Or death itself, summoned back to life. Do you think Death wants to be awake? No.

Nursery Nostalgia

Ok, tomorrow is the first day I'm selling my art at the consignment sale, but I'm nervous that I won't feel up to smiling at customers. I hope my art can sell itself because I might be hiding behind it.

A Reason to Shower

Outfits ironed, kids fed. Then we decided to stay home this morning.

Great. Now I need to find a new reason to shower. You see, when you are depressed it takes a lot of drive to get under that rain of water. You'd think that you'd crave refreshment. No. It's too much of a chore. Scrubbing your body? Torture. And brushing your hair? Too tiring. Especially if you have to dry it, too. Everything is hard to do, if all you're doing is staying in bed anyway. Once you get to the clean and clothed part, the rest is ok (like makeup and jewelry and talking to people). For some reason, it's that hygiene hump that needs climbing, and it's a killer.

Luckily I have a husband who can come up with a list of reasons why I need to take a shower. I may not like it, but he's gonna get me in there.

Nail color

I went to the store today to chose a new nail color. I'll be going to the salon tomorrow, and I wanted to have my own color in hand. I fully intended to go with a dark winey/purple to match my mood lately, but to my surprise I was drawn to a creamy coral. I was surprised because I am very much affected by visual things like color, and I didn't think that something so light and springy would catch my eye. Well I kept going back to this color because it was so beautiful, and I finally decided: if my nails are this color, maybe I'll be forcing myself into a lighter, positive mood.

I remember a few weeks ago when I painted my nails a bright red to match a dress. It didn't work out; I felt like the color didn't represent me and I ended up with a nail situation: darker nails with a bloody looking edge. That result was partly my laziness (I didn't take off the bright red first), but it was a sad example of how I needed to reflect my dark mood.

I've had a few good mornings lately, so I'm counting on more of those to get me through this new color. Who knows. Maybe they're a sign of a brighter Spring for me.

Danny's song

It's quiet time, and I hear Danny softly singing this LONG song about "going around and around....what are you gonna do...ever forever...louder." It's cute.

I'm in my room crying. It's been one of those mornings that my depression has gotten the better of me. When that happens, everything seems sad and upsetting. I can't believe I'm writing about this. I don't know how many of you readers have ever been depressed. The worst part of it for me is that it makes me less of an adequate caregiver for my children. That stings. I wish I could be happily singing to my toys like Danny.

My Bloody Valentine (Fingers)

Woke up with a desire to stay in bed. This happens a lot these days. And the red nail polish I put on yesterday was too bright and cheery, so I tried to cover it up with a darker, somber tone. But I was too lazy to take off the red polish first. Now my nails look like they have blood underneath them. Happy Valentine's Day.