Somewhere between 2Pac and Valerie Carter, drenched in sweat at a 7.5 incline with 2.8 speed my brain and I had a come to Jesus meeting. I’ve struggled the last couple of weeks last week being the worst with my depression. I’ve also hid it the best that I could and if you’ve dealt with mental health issues for as long as I have you know how to turn your illness into a “migraine” “stomach virus” or any other physical illness because saying, “I’m depressed.” Comes with so many questions you just don’t want to answer because for some reason you just can’t be depressed without a reason. I never understood why that is I think it’s just a stigma people don’t realize. (That’s another topic.)
I said things to myself that if anyone who didn’t struggle with this said to me it would piss me off. “You’ve dealt with worse. You’ve got to suck it up we’ve done so well with avoiding melt downs. I know right now working out feels like torture but you have to just sitting around the house makes it worse. Last week sucked but this week we are going to do better. We are going to shower more than once, brush our hair and teeth every day. Get out of bed on time put on makeup because we always feel better when we do. I know you hate it but you might have to force that smile. You around people who aren’t use to you and don’t know what you are going through maybe if they did they would treat you better but I doubt it. You are a badass who went through a complete breakdown, overdose got kicked out of the house, detoxed and never missed a day of work even if you were late. I know you can do it you just have to focus. It’s hard to focus but I need you to try. You have stereotyped yourself so much you want to punch yourself in the face but I know what you are capable of and I know what you’ve been through this isn’t something you need to worry anyone else with because you can do this. I love your crazy ass and the fact that I can say that now is a huge improvement. Just fight it okay.” That sums up the conversation I had with myself. I left out some of the swears and other personal details but I have learned to love myself some and I think that makes times like these easier.
Again I don’t believe in click bait so this isn’t about my husband or one particular person it’s about my job I recently left.
I was there for 10 YEARS! I loved it even on the bad days. I said I would never leave unless one of their ads didn’t give me goosebumps and it still does. I left with a pay cut but better hours and a better quality of life for me. I needed set hours, days off and to actually have holidays off. I realized when I left it would be a bit of a cultural shock but I underestimated how much of shock it was. It caused a mood swing that I was terrified of because they don’t know at my new job about my quirks (illness) they aren’t as open as my old job. My husband knew what was going on but for the first time in years I had to push it down because there is no one here for me to talk to. I’m not used to that either. At my old job I’d worked with most of them for years. (There wasn’t a high turn over right.) My supervisor and director were the same the entire time I was there. We were this highly screwed up dysfunctional family but the second someone needed something everyone would drop what they were doing for you. I could always talk to anyone about my moods including my director and supervisor and got full support. when I was diagnosed I went through a hard time, when I was too depressed to come to work, too manic to stay, the medication adjustments, the mood swings, the random episodes of panic attacks and break downs. All the overdoses. My bosses are more understanding than I could ever ask for and even though sometimes I don’t always act like I appreciate everything you do and how understanding you always are. I grew up in the 10 years I was there. Thank you for 10 wonderful years. You taught me how to be an adult, professional and no matterwhathow to give outstanding customer service. I’m prepared for everything because of you. I’ve tried to not run back even though I really want to there was a reason this worked outthe way it did. I miss it everyday and Ihope over time the pain lessens a little. I think of them every time something funny or crazy happens only to realize none of you here now.
I’m sure our paths will cross again and always “It’s my pleasure.” 😘
Where have I been? Who the hell knows at this point. I need to update everyone I just don’t know what to say right now. I’m working on limited meds until I get insurance at my new job and I dealt with a sudden low that I thought would get worse but luckily I made it through okay. I also had an anxiety attack at my new job after only being there for 4 days! Thanks mental health. I tried to keep you under wraps but you like to make your presence known you sick son of a bitch.
Every year thousands of people gather in Piedmont Park to celebrate recovery, lives, struggles and sharing their story. When you walk around you see shirts of people that passed away only a few weeks prior from all different ages, genders, ethnicity, sexual orientation suicide doesn’t discriminate. Pay attention to the warning signs and if someone says they aren’t okay get them help listen to them. If you aren’t okay please ask for help. 800-273-8255 the suicide hotline. Every 40 seconds someone dies by suicide.
This year like every year is being thankful that I survived after so many attempts that I am still here but I look at the families who have people who didn’t survive you feel a little guilt. You see them suffering and think that this should be your family and why did you survive when I tried so many times without any severe side effects while these people are mourning the loss of someone who probably did the same thing as me. I figured while I am here I need to use my recovery for good and to help people that are in the situations I faced to help them through. This is why I blog hopefully I am helping someone who is struggling right now. YOU CAN DO THIS even when it feels impossible even when you are laying on the floor fighting that fucking bottle of pills you can do it. It feels impossible but dammit you can make it through this. Call the hotline please.
I’m writing this after my daily 3 mile walk because it’s been on my mind and I think I’m finally ready to open up.
The first thing I want to say to small town America seeing this from my personal social media page. I AM NOT GETTING A DIVORCE. Have you met my husband? He is a saint!!
Anyway we are going to start with some amazing news. I got a good report from the psychiatrist which means everything is going good, my medicine no longer requires to be on lock down and I’ve lost 42.1 pounds.
The title of this blog is just as it says. Today after the gym I cleaned out my side of the closet with all the random things I’ve stuffed in the drawers over the years, old clothes I never wear and finally made room for my stuff. This seems like a normal thing right? It wasn’t for me. The last 6 years or so I forgot who I was and shared everything except shoes, jeans and a few shirts with my husband. (Yes I wore his boxers too.) I just started doing things for myself and I decided I wanted to separate and create my own space so I did….proudly. This is the time we are going to circle back to 6 years ago (it is mostly a cluster) back to now.
July 2013- My world as I know it would never be the same. It was when I was involuntarily hospitalized and diagnosed.
2014-2016- If you remember anything I talked about in previous post this was the self medicating stage. I became addicted to benzodiazepines, caffeine, diet pills. It was an endless cycle of overdoses and learning to talk my way out of going back to the hospital. I became my illness it was never that I had bipolar disorder and schizophrenia I am bipolar I let it define my life. I created my identity around every stereotype of what bipolar disorder was. I rapid cycled between depression and mania. I was self harming never sleeping and was in general a horrible person. If you want to know about my exorcism, snorting Valium off a bible or my brushes with death please refer to the 2015 I was a shitty person and that time I snorted Valium off a bible. (This is not click bait it actually happened.)
2017- My grandmother passed away in July of 2017. I can’t tell you a lot about 2017. I cut back on the benzodiazepines at the moment but never stopped taking them. My addiction to caffeine was worse than ever. I made the decision to stay with my mom at the hospital despite her telling me she was okay. I didn’t want to leave her by herself so I stayed and I wasn’t taking my regular meds popping more Xanax and drinking 3 or 4 16 and 20 ounce Redbulls. I slept in waiting rooms with my mom so I wasn’t sleeping well and all this mixture didn’t help anything. We had family come in town and all of it became a large cluster fuck. Cluster fuck is the best way I can describe it. Anyway right before she passed I got worse quickly. Again I want to reiterate no one made me do any of this and I pushed myself too far with everything. I tried to stay around when they brought her home and help my mom and aunt take care of her. I was there when she died and I even helped them clean her up before the coroner got there. These are all things I should’ve never done. I never thought seeing a dead body or watch someone take their last breath would fuck my head up as much as it did. There weren’t enough trigger warnings for that situation. I should’ve stopped pushing myself because I knew it was hurting me but I tried to fight through it to help my family but I only caused more issues. Anyway after she passed I got severely depressed. I was back up on benzodiazepines worst than before. At the end of September 2017 I overdosed on Xanax and Halicon chasing it with whiskey. The only good thing about Facebook groups is that I went live and they were able to contact my husband to come and get me. I got kicked out of the house and had to sober up while going to work and try to fix my marriage.
Fast forward to 2019- I’m sober now for 2 years from pills and Redbulls and almost a year from all caffeine. I don’t take diet pills anymore and I have a schedule. I don’t like structure but it is a must to keep me from spinning out of control. I’ve finally learned to say I have bipolar disorder and instead of I am bipolar. Bipolar is a condition it isn’t a person. It doesn’t define me anymore it is just an illness I live with and I’ve learned to manage. So I am finding myself again as a person with mental health issues. I am learning triggers and watching for them the ability to say no and step away from negative situations that can cause problems. I’ve found out how to finally function with this and it will never be perfect but I think after everything I can manage.
If you can tell I’m being a little generic in the post because I don’t know the best way to tell it and I really don’t want to trigger anyone. This all happened in 2015 for those of you who read this and feel the need to run and tell my husband. I AM NOT USING UNHEALTHY HABITS NOW AND ALSO HE IS INVOLVED IN MY LIFE STYLE CHANGES! This is why I dreaded people who know me to read this. Why don’t you ask me instead of running to him. It is really a dick move.
I used to be obsessed with collar bones just collar bones. I don’t know why collar bones were so attractive to me but I wanted them to show so badly. I would look up exercises on Pinterest that “targeted” that area. I also looked up exercises for thigh gap but I wasn’t as into it as I was collar bones. I would press them everyday and flex around until I could see them even if it was just a little. I would go to all these forums where people recommended diet pills, exercises and other ways to make that area more predominate. I would press my skin down repeatedly thinking that if I kept pressing hard enough they would show through. The more I write the more I realize how severe my issues were.
I had 5 different diet pills to take and I would always exceed the amount it recommended and on top of that I was sucking down 3 or 4 16 and/or 20 ounce Redbulls a day (I stopped taking my meds convinced they were making me fat.) I had a lot of caffeine in my system then I only ate 400 to 500 calories a day, chew and spit but I could never make myself throw up. I also walked 3.5 to 4 miles everyday and did targeted exercises. I started in June 2015 and it peaked around October then my husband became involved and it kind of leveled out by November. My therapist at the time said that I could be classified as symptoms of an eating disorder. I lost over 40 pounds in that amount of time but it wasn’t enough for me.
After this I started Binging all the time. I could 3 big bags of M&Ms and 4 small pizzas. I could finish a large Pizza Hut pizza in a day. I am training myself to have better habits and trying to be careful not to cross over on either of those lines. The right way takes longer but is more rewarding for my efforts. I have a destructive side that wants to come out so badly but between medicine and help from my husband we are keeping them contained.
Trigger warning: This post contains dieting, unhealthy habits and references to eating disorders.
I almost started a bad habit I had a few years ago chew and spit. If you don’t know what chew and spit is that’s when you put food in your mouth usually that is on a binge and instead of swallowing it you spit. The purpose is to get the taste without the calories. I know there is debate about how much it actually works but I thought about it the other day and stopped myself before I actually did it. I am doing really well with keeping healthy habits while trying to lose weight instead of what I did in 2015.
In 2015 I would chew and spit, only eat 400 to 500 calories a day and make sure I worked it all out. I would take way too many diet pills with energy drinks. I was dropping weight like crazy but forming every bad habit possible. People will say because of my weight it would never be categorized as an ED.
Now I’m making sure I eat right and consume enough calories, drink water, no diet pills, no caffeine, no chew and spit. I don’t binge anymore and now I’m losing weight not as fast as I want but at least this time I’m doing it the right way.
I am going to start off with if you have a weak stomach are triggered by laxatives or vomiting please be cautious.
I’ve had 0 bowel moments in 5 days so Monday I bought fiber supplements and laxatives. I tried to do this about 2 weeks ago with magnesium citrate but nothing happened. I’ve used magnesium citrate before and it dropped me to my knees and cleared me out but no luck. I decided to try laxatives this time. I took 4 Monday night hoping to have a little relief Tuesday morning and that isn’t what happened.
I woke up Tuesday with horrible cramps so I went to the bathroom and nothing was happening until it felt like my body exploded out of both ends. I had to vomit but getting off the toilet felt impossible so I leaned over and vomited in the tub. The sound of vomiting makes me vomit more. The light was off in the bathroom so when I turned it on what I saw blew my mind. It looked like I vomited shit. I have a picture of this my husband said it wasn’t but I still think it was. After this I chugged peptobismol and had after shock the rest of the day. I ended up losing weight because of it. I will never take laxatives again. Sorry this is a gross post.
I started exercising and changing my diet on 7/1/19 as of today I’ve lost a total of 26 pounds which may seem like a lot but considering my start weight isn’t as much as you think. I walk 2 miles everyday and do specific workout to areas that need the most work. I am on Herbalife which can be expensive but I’ve noticed it helps. Routine is crucial in everything I do so it is what I needed to get me going. I was skeptical at first but it is worth the money. People ask me what keeps you so motivated and keeps you from slipping. The answer is NOTHING. I am not motivated to workout almost everyday. I dread the idea of going walking most days and when I walk in the store I have to talk myself out of eating a large bag of M&Ms but my story is a little different from others I know because I’m battling my illness.
Weight and mental health can almost go hand in hand. If you look at our meds weight gain is a big side effect not to mention the actual illness that pulls you down and makes moving let alone exercising feel impossible. I am dealing with mixed episodes right now which makes what I’m trying to do so damn difficult. I’m not motivated and have to try and convince myself that I do need to exercise and skipping a day or 3 isn’t a good idea. I struggle with this EVERYDAY. So any weight loss is a big deal. I am fighting against Seroquel, I gained almost 40 pounds from the time I started taking it. Everything that I do is a fight and a struggle. None of this is easy for me but I’m trying. I’m trying to fight a battle that seems never ending but I am making it.