BPD Is A Bitch Archive

Hanging In There

Posted May 5, 2015 By kmarrs

I don’t even know that to say.

I’m sitting here it is 6:45PM on Monday May 4th, 2015 and I still have no health insurance because the pissant that will not be legally responsible when I lose my shit doesn’t give a shit that he was incorrect about me getting it back on the 1st as a probably yet worse case scenario.  I’m in withdraw from yes, taking nothing, and like 6 days post-op and I don’t know what part of me is going haywire because of what but every part of my down to the small molecule is going crazy from the volatile cocktail that is Fibromyalgia, unmedicated serious mental health, post operation, and a broken tooth I forgot to tell you all about that happened mid way through the month that will hence forth never be named it has been that horrible.

A month, year, life from now I will look back and see how strong I was to make it through this exact moment in time but for now I’m going to loving punch this kitten in the face.

hang-in-there-cat

Loving because it’s a kitten. In the face because it needs to stop telling me what the to fuck do already.  Be warned other people who might carelessly throw this line around.

So instead of punching kittens I’m going to hide off grid for a bit.  I promise you’ll hear from me soon and before it involves constructing an insanity plea.

Or you’ll hear from me tomorrow, I don’t know, but blogging can be therapeutic.  But my blogging schedule can’t tell me what to fucking do either.

Also, I’m really active on tumblr right now and a bit more pleasant there because I’m currently fangirling over AOU.

Wait can we.

I need to back up.

Guilt.

First of all I feel guilty as hell for feeling as sick as I do because I chose to have my appendix almost rupture while I was withdrawing from my meds, a few days after I ripped a dental filling out of a tooth while flossing.  That shit needs to stop but it’s part of the sickness.  Am a manipulating my husband into giving me more time to hide?

I swear to god my appendix was a physical manifestation of the stress.

Also and my original guilt sidetrack:

I feel this compulsion to justify having spent 10$ on me and my husband’s one no matter what movie a year (MARVEL) when I can’t afford over 2 grand in meds for me in the kid.  And what that movie date did for me in therapy… right down to the three young girls behind us whom as one said “ew” to a kissing scene.

I’m not proofreading this.  Suck it.  I’m literally shaking.

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Depression Belly

Posted April 28, 2015 By kmarrs

Did you know it’s been medically proven that people who are depressed tend to gain weight around their middle?  In fact, often beer bellies are actually depression bellies because anyone drinking that much beer is probably also depressed.  Not always, but often.

Well, here is my depression belly in all it’s glory.

depression weight gain bpd borderline personality disorder blog

This is what I see when I look down.  I look about 6-7 months pregnant.

I’m sharing this with you not because I’m proud, but because this is one of those ugly realities of depression.  Most would look at me and think I’m a lazy glutton.  In reality my depression has actually decreased my appetite and I’m actually exercising more these days than I ever have in my past.  This is pure depression.  A physical manifestation that I carry around my middle.

Mt weight isn’t going up or down.  It’s staying steady.  So I’m choosing to see that glass half full when I can.

But the reality of it is, being sad makes me fat and being fat makes me sad and I’m stuck in the middle of a catch 22.

So… I’m going to continue focusing on portion control even when my appetite eventually comes back.  I’m going to continue on the exercise even when I don’t want to.  These days all I can really put my heart into is walking, but it’s good for me both physically and mentally, so it’s something.  I’m currently trying to walk around the block once a day.  When my joints no longer moan  after that, I’ll up it to twice a day, and so on.  If I have to, I’ll take my damn cane.  But I’m trying.

And that’s the best I can do: try.

I suppose that’s the best anyone can do in any situation.

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pills medication BPD Borderline Personality Disorder Depression  Anxiety BipolarAs I type this I’m currently withdrawing from Ativan because I ran out.  I ran out because a minor paperwork fuck up with welfare caused us to lose our insurance for a month.  It’ll be back on May 1, they assure us, and in the meantime if we pay out-of-pocket for the medication Lucas and I need, they will reimburse us.

Because yes, I have a couple grand just laying about.  Luke’s meds alone cost $500.  My Ativan wouldn’t be too bad, but my Geodon dose that I’m running out of next weekend is over a grand by itself and that withdraw is brutal.  Not to mention it’s one of the top medications I take.

So some guy sitting in an office made a mistake, and now we either come up with a couple thousand dollars, that they’ll pay back, or Luke and I proceed to run out of medication one at a time.  Thank God his Vyvanse that he ran out of 2 weeks ago doesn’t cause withdraw.  It just leaves him suffering serious and sometimes dangerous ADHD symptoms.  This is the kids that tried to fly a few years back when he was unmedicated.  That physics experiment left him with a broken wrist.  Luckily age has brought him some wisdom.

Then there is me.  A month ago I was attempting to get myself admitted because I was in rough shape, and now I can’t even take my meds properly.  How is this ok in someone’s eyes.

Anyway, we’re not taking this sitting down.  Pat is writing angry emails to supervisors and spelling out the facts.  We can’t afford to pay out-of-pocket and we can’t afford for me to run out of Geodon.  I can go without my Ativan and I’ll survive the withdraw.  I can even go without my anti-depressant, I might just need to hide for a few days.  But man-o-man is that Geodon withdraw nasty.  I’ll be going from 80 MG to nothing cold turkey, I have no means of tapering down, and unless they find a solution, I have no power to prevent it.

You can’t just cold turkey meds.  Medical rule #1.  You can’t cold turkey psyche meds.  It’s dangerous.  It causes bigger problems.  The list of side effects of a cold turkey is worse than the symptoms themselves.  For reference, if I was on a larger dose of Ativan, I could be suffering seizures right now.  Instead, and thankfully, I’m only light-headed, nauseous, agitated, and suffering worse anxiety than usual.

But man the Geodon.

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When You’re Too Smart To Be Hospitalized

Posted April 2, 2015 By kmarrs

Untreated BPD“So you could write a book on BPD,” she said as greeting before she ever said her name.  I had already been in my local ER for some 20 hours before she came into see me.  I had seen various other nurses, doctors, and social workers though, so she had plenty of intel on me.

What was I in the ER?  I needed a psych bed.

Was I an immediate danger to myself? No, but… That overwhelming feeling of hopeless, helpless, and no longer wanting to be alive paired with increased impulsive tendencies, and being so stressed you snap at everything and everyone, is a scary feeling I don’t like.

What did I want? A psych bed long enough to destress some and decompress long enough to start remembering there is another side to this and that I’ll ultimately get through it, and a chance to increase my anti-depressant.

What did they hear? That I had no immediate plan to kill myself, and that I wanted to increase my meds.

What did they tell my meds doctor who made the final decision? Probably exactly that?

So, I was given a lecture on how I’d no longer benefit from the therapy the hospital offers as I could probably run the groups I know them so well, and how this is all just a mood shift probably caused by stress over my sister.  They told me that I knew it would swing back as it always does with BPD.  Then they sent me packing.

And now I’m left in a daze of “what the hell just happened”.  Am I suddenly too smart to need the hospital?  Is there really that big of a difference between actively having a plan, and passively wanting to be dead?  Because I’m impulsive enough right now that everything all can change the second an opportunity presents itself.

But I suppose I am smart enough to know that given time and the right meds I’ll feel better.

But I’m also smart enough to know that there is no cure from BPD.  It’s a lifelong battle.  And I’ll feel like this a lot more often than I’ll feel fantastic.

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Confidence and BPD

Posted March 19, 2015 By kmarrs

Parenting and Borderline Personality Disorder BPD and Self Confidence
I look at my daughter and see a world of confidence and can’t help but wonder if I had even half that much confidence at her age.  I know by the time I was 7 or 8 it was gone, but what about before that?

My daughter, if anything, has too much confidence.  The first instinct is to say not possible, then you reflect on ego, and second guess yourself.  The thing is, if she has this much confidence as an adult, yes, she might be a tad bit annoying.  Right now?  Well, it’s still annoying.  But…

She has her first bully to live through.  Middle school to survive.  She has not yet felt her first heart break.  She has yet to be teased for wearing Skechers when Nike is the brand of choice that month.  (Don’t worry, daughter, you’ll be ahead of the game when Skechers take their turn the following month.)

She has many years to come of people tearing her down before she becomes an adult, and I imagine it won’t fully stop there.  I can only hope that she has half the confidence at 23, as she does at 3.  If she does, I will have successfully raised her to be a confident adult.  Hopefully validating will help build that confidence in her.  And while I don’t want her to be egotistical, confidence makes for a strong individual.  A woman, or man, who knows what s(he) wants and how to get it without hurting others.

Where does the line between egotistical and confident lie?  I’m not quite sure.  However, I’m also raising my kids to know that we are all equal, no matter who we are.  Neither race, gender, sexuality, religion, nor social economical class makes anyone better than anyone else.  Hopefully, the line between ego and confidence lies in there somewhere.  As does knowing where strengths and weaknesses lie.

I have found, though, that for every weakness you point out, you need to also add two strengths.  It is a lot easier to shatter confidence than it is to shatter ego.  That is what I’m going wrong with Thomas.

Myself?

I lack confidence so deeply, that I struggle to hear anything positive about myself.  Be it a result of my illness, bullying, or lack of validation, I don’t know.  I just hope to help my kids be the opposite of myself in all the way it counts.  Because I have to tell you: I would rather my daughter be egotistical at 33 than the confident mess her mother is at 31.

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The BPD Mountain of Stress

Posted March 16, 2015 By kmarrs

Borderline Personality Disorder BPD and stressRemember that mountain I was climbing? The top was recovery?  The bottom was the hospital?  Well, I landed on the roof of the hospital not too long after the post went live.  And god I wanted in those doors.  I wanted admitted.  I wanted to feel safe again.  But, we couldn’t really afford it.

I was, however, given the green light to drop classes this semester.  It increased the stress over money, (Care to donate?  The button is to the right.  It’ll go to things like electric and gas.) but the stress over trying to pull off school was actually worse.  I was so stressed I was losing my ability to concentrate and function as a human being.  And I just couldn’t advance my education through that.

Am I dropped out for good? Hell no! But for sure the rest of winter semester and maybe summer semester as well.  I’ll have to pay back on my loans some, but if David, the Brother-in-law that lives with us, gets the job he’s talking about, that will still be less stressful than trying to focus on my education.

So I’ll take something like nine months off, including what I’ve already taken, which will be spent bettering my medication cocktail, spending time with my sister and seeing if she’ll survive this failing liver issue, and rebuilding a friendship I thought I had lost.  Hell, maybe it is lost for good, I don’t know.  I’ve been told something will be figured out, but we’ll see.  If I do have that friendship back, however, I’ll have an essential part of my personal support system back in place.  So we’ll see.  If he is loss, then I will have mourned and healed by then.

Altogether,  come August or September, I plan to be ready to reenter the academic world, ready to take names, kick ass, and keep my GPA where it’s at.  I do love learning and school, even if it is stressful at times.  It just needs to be about the only major stressor.

Which is good, as I might owe the school a couple thousand due to the timing of me dropping.  That part is still being worked out.  Ideally they will let me pay it back with future loan money.  Or a payment plan, or it will be forgiven.  Who knows.  It’ll be decided.

My academic advisor knows the full situation and knows this isn’t me being lazy but my life exploding in my face, on top of my debilitating mental health issues.  He also has access to the grades I’ve pulled off.  So he is going to work with financial aid for me, and they will come to a solution.  So I’m choosing to not worry about it.  Even a payment plan is less stressful than what I was going through just a few days ago.

The ugly cry automatically triggered by going to the school site, was a clear sign that is was time to give up pretending I could school.  So was the cutting.

So now, I’m not without stress, but I removed what I could, so I can better focus on healing from what I can’t.

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